


A Change of Batteries

by kissingandcrying (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Time, M/M, Robot Sex, downloadable kinks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-05 07:28:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1091214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/kissingandcrying
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean wanted to blame Sam for being too invested when the truth was that Dean never should have opened that stupid box. [Please read the warnings. This is a work of fiction in which there is major character death. The premise is as follows: Castiel is a robot given to Dean for his birthday. The disconnect comes from how absolutely realistic/human Castiel becomes over the course of the year. Reader discretion is advised.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sea of Dreams

“I’ve never really liked the stupid things,” Dean said into the receiver of his cellphone. “and Sam’s about to get an assfull of foot if he thinks I’m keepin’ it.”

 

With his foot on the large box, Dean put one hand on his hip while his head craned to hold the phone up to his ear. Mary mumbled something on the other line that Dean ignored.

 

“I’ll sell this thing back and take in-store credit before I boot it up and let it do my damn laundry.”

 

_“Dean, please. Sam spent a lot of time and energy customizing that thing for you. He’s sorry that Lisa didn’t work out and he’s trying to… buy you some company without crossing the law._ ”

 

“He wants me to sleep with a robot.” Dean accused, nudging the box away from him. “You’re all crazy. I’m taking it back.”

 

_“Oh, Dean!”_ Mary huffed. _“I’m hanging up. DON’T take it back.”_

 

Dean scoffed and closed the phone, shoving it into his jeans. “They’re all crazy.” He said to himself, giving the box another once over. It was in an odd shape, the big words CIMSSA stamped over the top of it. Cardboard. Heavy as hell. Dean wasn’t in the least bit curious about what had been shoved inside.

 

Dean jumped when his phone started to ring again. This time he pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the caller ID. Sam.

 

“Shit,” He said, silencing it and pushing it back in his pocket. The truth was that Sam might actually set his house on fire if he didn’t at least open the box to look inside. Dean considered it for the third time in as many minutes before taking the jump and going down on his knees.

 

The tape was hard to pull off and even then there were clamps and hard plastics keeping it together. A pair of scissors, butcher knife and a set of pliers later, the cardboard had been pried open. Dean nudged one of the large, ripped parts off and threw it to the floor.

 

“Great,” Dean said. “Another box.”

 

Dean worked the remaining cardboard off, pushing it aside as he went, until only a large metal box remained. Slipped into a pouch beside a number lock was a piece of paper that Dean snatched out of it’s holding place.

 

“Welcome to CIMSSA. Please state your name and code of identification.” The box said.

 

“Er…” Dean said. “Dean Winchester. I don’t have a code.”

 

“One moment, please.” The box responded. Dean raised his eyebrows and looked down at the piece of paper while he waited. It was an instruction manual.

 

“Thank you for your purchase, Mr. Winchester. In order to confirm your identity please state your code of identification. If you do not have one, please consult the ‘purchasing code’ on your receipt or, alternatively, your date of birth.”

 

“Yeah, sure. January 24th, 1979...” Dean trailed off.

 

“One moment please.”

 

Dean waited. It was minutes before the box began to whirr and hiss. Smoke wafted out from the interior of the box as it cracked open.

 

“How the hell did Sam get this in here?” Dean asked nobody as he waited for it to open itself the remainder of the way. He lifted his hand to wave the smoke away from his face as the apartment hallway slowly filled with it.

 

Dean assumed the smoke wasn’t dangerous, just uncomfortable. He closed his eyes and continued to wave his hands, paper packet moving a lot of the smoke around his head. Dean didn’t notice when the smoke cleared and didn’t think to open his eyes until the box said,

 

“Thank you for purchasing your customized CIMSSA. Should you experience any issues with your product, please consult the FAQ in the User Guide located on the door of this charging dock. Contact information is also provided within this box on the right wall. Press the “call” button to reach a representative. We hope you’ll enjoy our complimentary cooking package installed into your product. For further information, please consult your AI. He or She will tell you everything you need to know about your purchased product. Again, thank you and enjoy your CIMSSA, Mr. Winchester.”

 

The most concerning aspect of the box was how human is sounded. Dean winced about it but didn’t otherwise respond. He climbed up off of his knees to get a better look at the contents of the box.

 

Oh.

 

“Holy shit!” Dean yelled, dropping the paper.

 

It might have been the black hair. It might have been the sex of the robot. It might have been the incredibly human features. Dean stepped back until he couldn’t see what was inside of the box anymore. Halfway on his way to hyperventilating, he fumbled with his pockets, looking for his phone.

 

He turned around as he called Sam.

 

_“Yello?”_

 

“Sam.” Dean hissed.

 

_“Mom called me. How’d you like my gift?”_

 

“I don’t!” Dean said. “There’s a MAN in a metal BOX in my hallway. The box is talking to me, the man looks like he SHOULD be talking to me. He doesn’t have clothes.  Why the hell did you buy me this and how do I take it back!”

 

_“You don’t take it back, Dean. It’s a gift and I’m not giving you the receipt.”_

 

“You think this is a joke?” Dean asked.

 

_“God no. I don’t think it’s a joke, I think it’s a solution.”_ Sam responded. _“You’re always alone, working long hours or going half gay for the bartender at the Roadhouse because Lisa fucked you over. I know you need the company and this is the perfect way to get it without getting your heart broken.”_

 

Dean clenched the phone in his hand while he thought of a response. By the time he had one, Sam had long since hung up.

 

“Damn it!” Dean yelled.

 

“What can I assist you with, Mr. Winchester?”

 

“Unless you can get me the receipt from my brother? Nothin’.”

 

Dean hadn’t always had all of his marbles. He hardly noticed he shouldn’t have been getting a response until the voice said, “while I can not obtain a direct copy of the receipt, the company keeps multiples in the database and can provide you with a copy. Unfortunately, if you’re looking to return me you will need the original.”

 

In lieu of every scary movie he’d ever seen, Dean turned around as slowly as he could.

 

“Uh…” He said.

 

The robot was standing beside his box stark naked, hands folded politely in front of him and his dark hair in soft waves on top of his head. “Hello, I’m Castiel and I’m your new CIMSSA. My battery is currently at 100 percent. Would you like a quick tutorial as to my most basic services?”

 

“No,” Dean said quickly. “No. I want you to shut yourself down and climb back in the box.”

 

Castiel looked puzzled. Puzzled!

 

“Of course, sir. I can not shut myself down but I would be happy to repackage myself.”

 

“Why can’t you shut down! Don’t get back in the box if you’re gonna lay in there awake.” Dean said angrily. “Why can’t you shut down?”

 

“My battery is currently at 100 percent. The only time I shut down is if I am rebooted or if I run out of battery. If you would like for me to be permanently turned off, you need only tell me and I will repackage myself before self-destructing my hard drive. At this point I will be under my warranty of ten years and In that case, I can be returned and replaced with an upgraded version of myself that better suits your needs.”

 

Dean stopped himself from giving the go-ahead. “So you if climb in the box right now, you’ll just lay there wide awake?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“...I’m not actually comfortable with that. Can the box be stood up and moved out of the damn hallway, atleast?” Dean said.

 

“Of course. I can move it right away, Mr. Winchester.”

 

Dean would be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed by how natural the robot looked. You wouldn’t be able to tell it apart from any other human. Not surprisingly, one of the largest controversies surrounding the CIMSSA was the rate of recognition a human had for their AI’s. Dean wouldn’t have known if a well-trained CIMSSA were keeping him company every night at the roadhouse. That made him more uncomfortable than it should have.

 

Not nearly as uncomfortable as Castiel and his clearly uncovered dick.

 

“Do you come with clothes, or...?”

 

“We can, sir.” Castiel said, turning around to get to work on the package. He bent over to grab the metal box by it’s edges and Dean cringed, covering his eyes. “However, I was personalized and sent out of factory without clothes by order. My customization did not include a wardrobe.”

 

So basically, fuck Sam and his personal agenda.

 

Dean couldn’t say he was surprised. “Just get the box. I’ll go grab you some clothes. When you’re done, stay here in the hallway, alright? Don’t go walking around.”

 

“Of course, sir.”

 

“And don’t…” Dean started, “call me sir anymore. Call me Dean.”

 

“Yes, Dean.”

 

Dean shivered. These overcomplicated Barbies were fast learners. “Uhm… well, uh… just, take care of that box. Put it in the living room next to the… t.v, I guess.” Dean said, waving him off.

 

\- - -

 

Dean and the robot were roughly the same size, so snagging a pair of clothing for him wasn’t too hard. Dean quickly flipped through his shirts and produced a plain black one before jacking a pair of jeans from his clean laundry basket.

 

He found Castiel in the hallway where he told him to wait, standing up straight with his hands still folded neatly in front of him. Dean handed him the clothes.

 

“Put these on.” He said. “Do you need to shower?”

 

“I do not need to shower, but I can if you would like me to. I do not perspire. I also do not require sustenance other than my charging dock.”

 

“Great. You don’t sweat, you don’t eat, you don’t drink.” Dean repeated. “That’s great.” After a terse silence he added, “Well, I got places to be so… just make yourself at home. Do whatever you robot people do.”

 

“Yes, Dean. Would you like me to…”

 

“No! No, you don’t have to do anything. I’m gonna give you a one week trial run just to appease my kid brother and then I’m sendin’ you back. Sorry, I don’t really have a need for robots around here.” Dean said, stepping around Castiel and grabbing his coat. “Get dressed and find something to do… but don’t do any of my damn chores, for christ’s sake.”

 

“Yes, Dean.” Castiel said, tone completely neutral and face completely straight.

 

Dean snuck out as Castiel began to clothe himself.

 

He had a date at the roadhouse. Not with some girl, but with the bartender. He didn’t have a thing for the bartender like Sam had suggested, but Benny had been a big confident when he was drunk and needed to get Lisa issues off of his chest. Basically, he was the one person outside of Sam who would listen to his shit.

 

The walk was brisk as the butt-end of February rolled around and Dean hid his face behind his coat as he went against the wind.

 

“Hey, brotha.” Benny said as Dean walked in. “Long time no see.”

 

“Yeah,” Dean said, unearthing his hands from his pockets. “Work. I go in again tonight. I’m thinkin’ I can knock back a few stiff ones before I head out.”

 

“Bad idea. You want a glass of milk?” Benny suggested. Regardless, he was laughing.

 

Dean scoffed but laughed. “On the rocks.”

 

“So what’s goin’ on?” Benny asked as he turned around to the glasses. The bar was empty beside Dean and two other older gentlemen. The lights were low and it was calm. Dean sat down and began to talk before the drink was even set in front of him.

 

“Sam got me a CIMSSA.”

 

Benny slid the glass across the bar, grabbing a rag off of his belt and wiping his hands. “Say what now?”

 

“One of those big, stupid robots.” Dean clarified, picking of the glass that legitimately had milk in it. “Benny, one of these days…” he threatened.

 

“Just drink it, and I know what those things are. I hate ‘em.”

 

“Mmm, they’re not good for much other then taking over your whole life while you sit there, get fat and watch t.v., right?”

 

“They’re for perverts.” Benny said with a tip of his head. “You want my humble opinion? Trash it while you got the chance. It aint worth tryin’ to find out what recyclin’ bin to put it in later.”

 

Dean tipped back his shot of milk and slammed the glass on the table. “Damn. The things on a gift receipt, I can’t just ship it back. Sam’s gotta do it.”

 

Benny looked unimpressed. “Yeah, well have it carry itself and its box right back to good ole sam’s apartment.”

 

“I don’t trust that kid with this robot. Thing’s smart, man. I’ll wake up to find it stripping in my damn bedroom under orders from the master or some shit.”

 

Benny laughed from his gut, filling the quiet bar. “Jo’ll love to hear this.” He said. “You oughta stop by on one of her work days.” He suggested.

 

“Yeah. It’s too bad we work the same days,” Dean said. “I miss my girl.”

 

Benny refilled Dean’s cup in jest and Dean took it without mentioning the contents.

 

“She misses you too, brotha.” He said with a smile. “What about your other girl.”

 

Dean licked his lips and looked down at his hands. “Lisa? She took the kid and ran already. Haven’t been able to get in touch with her.”

 

“Mmm.” Benny hummed. He dropped the subject.

 

Dean spent the next few hours in the company of Benny and the two overzealous strangers that had been in there when he arrived. When his phone alarm began to go off, he sighed and packed up his things. “That’s the work alarm. The bells are a-callin’.” He said. “Tell Jo I’ll try and stop in to see her soon.”

 

“Yeah.” Benny said. “Cut back them work hours, understand?” He suggested.

 

\- - -

 

Work passed slow and the last thing Dean expected when he re entered his apartment was for Castiel to be waiting at the door, hands folded and Dean’s clothes hanging a bit too large from his body.

 

“I thought you’d be out of batteries.” Dean said, kicking off his shoes and taking off his jacket.

 

“Please, allow me.” Castiel said, stepping over to Dean.

 

“I got it.” Dean said. “Just go sit down.”

 

“Where would you like me to sit?” Castiel asked.

 

“I’d like for you to not ask such specific questions. Go sit wherever you want to sit… if you want to sit. If you don’t want to, just go find something else to do. I can hang my own coat.”

 

“I want to do whatever you want me to do.” Castiel admitted. He pressed himself up against the wall to be out of the way as Dean passed him. “If you would like me to sit down, that is what I will do. Would you like something to eat?”

 

Dean didn’t have the balls to admit he was starving and that he wouldn’t have minded Castiel making him something. Day one and he was already caving? No.

 

“I’m not too hungry. I just wanna get in bed.”

 

“I’ve made your bed, Dean.” Castiel said. He followed Dean down the hallway. “Would you still like me to sit down?”

 

“Do what you want. Yeah, yeah. Sit. Please.”

 

Dean pushed open his bedroom door and flopped on his mattress. Castiel followed him. “If that is the case, thank you.”

 

Castiel sat down on the edge of Dean’s bed and turned to face him. Dean groaned and rolled over. “Why did you choose to sit there?”

 

“This is the optimum location to be beneficial to you. Is there anything I can help you with? Getting your clothes for work tomorrow? Taking off your clothes from today?”

 

“Yikes!” Dean yelped, quickly lifting his head to look at Castiel. “No!”

 

Castiel looked unaffected.

 

“Why don’t you go charge or something!”

 

Castiel considered it. “Of course, Dean.”

 

“...but I could do with a sandwich, too...” Fuck it. He'd had a long day.

 

Castiel nodded his head. “What would you like on your sandwich?”

 

“Meat. Lettuce. Bread. Butter. Hey, Can you make a burger?”

 

“I can.” Castiel said.

 

“Maybe make it a burger.” Dean said. “Same things on it, though.”

 

Castiel nodded. “It should be done in twelve minutes and… fifty eight seconds.”

 

Dean kept his whistling to himself and pressed snugly back against the mattress. He had fallen asleep before Castiel’s creak sounded from the top step.

 

\- - -

 

Castiel woke Dean up the next morning. Despite the amount of reasons Dean had to dislike the AI, he certainly couldn’t complain about the treatment Castiel bestowed upon him when 7:00 rolled around. There was a soft tapping at his forehead and then the blankets were pulled down from on top of his body and dropped at the end of the bed.

 

“It’s 7:00 on a Wednesday morning, February 19th and the temperature is 17 degrees celsius. Chance of snow is 15% and the wind is at 5 miles per hour.” Castiel said as he ran his finger down Dean’s nose. “Downstairs I’ve cooked a breakfast of French toast and fried eggs, Sunny side up. The drink is hot chocolate. According to your profile, this is your most preferred breakfast, however if this is incorrect or if today you’d prefer a different meal, please let me know.”

 

Dean smacked Castiel’s hand away, suddenly realizing what kind of picture he was allowing himself to be immersed into. “Er… okay, what?”

 

“It’s 7:00 on a Tuesday morning, February 19th and the temp-”

 

“No, what are you doing in here?”

 

“I am waking you up, Dean.” Castiel said. He stepped away from the bed.

 

“Why? I have an alarm set.”

 

“According to my programming, you dislike alarms and prefer to have your face stroked.”

 

“Wrong. WRONG. Please don’t stroke my face.” Dean moaned, laying his arm over his eyes. “I think I’ll stick to my alarm, thanks. You don’t have to come and wake me up.”

 

“Thank you, Dean.” Castiel said. His eyes went fuzzy.

 

“Wh- yeah, sure, I guess.” He responded. “Listen, I appreciate the breakfast but I got a mode of operation around here and I don’t need you messin’ it all up.”

 

“Would you like me to cease my breakfast function?”

 

Dean considered it. Free breakfast? And it's only for a week. He climbed out of bed before saying, “naw, you don’t have to. If it’s what you were made to do, I’ll let you do it for this week. Now clear out so I can get dressed.”

 

“Yes, Dean. What would you like me to clear out?”

 

“No, clear out. Get the hell out of here.” Dean clarified, nudging Castiel in the shoulder.

 

“Yes, Dean.” Castiel said, turning around and leaving. Dean shut the door behind him and dressed quickly. He’d take a shower later. The kitchen smelled like eggs that Dean couldn’t wait to sink his teeth into and a glass of hot chocolate he’d love to dip his tongue in. The house was running on a chill that Castiel probably couldn’t feel, so Dean turned the heat up before entering the kitchen.

 

“You think we can keep it any colder in here?” He said jokingly.

 

Castiel turned around and said, “Yes. While the minimum the thermostat will allow is 50 degrees, I can install an air conditioner. Alternatively, we can open the windows and it will drop to 11 degrees after two hours.

 

So Castiel doesn't get lame humor. Noted.

 

Dean sat down at the table. “Don’t worry about that. Where’s the food at?”

 

Castiel approached the table with a plate that Dean wanted to slobber over. “Holy shit, this looks amazing.”

 

“Thank you, Dean.” Castiel said. “I am glad I could be of service.”

 

Dean began to eat. His fork clanked against the plate as he pushed food into his mouth and it wasn’t until the last egg was polished off that he noticed Castiel staring. Just standing and staring at him eating from across the table. His first instinct was to say something. After a second he remembered it was a robot and that it probably didn’t care that he was eating like an uncultured asshole. He went back to devouring his plate full of food.

 

“So, Castiel. What are you gonna do today?”

 

“Whatever you instruct me to do.” Castiel said.

 

Dean rolled his eyes and dropped his silverware. He picked up a stray napkin from the table and dabbed his mouth with it to make up for how he had eaten his breakfast. “You don’t have anything you wanna do?”

 

“Yes. I want to serve you.”

 

“Dude,” Dean said. “Please.”

 

“That is what I was created for.”

 

Dean wrinkled his nose and stood up. “I’m going to watch a movie until it’s time to go to work.”

 

“Of course, Dean.” Castiel said. He gave a little bow and Dean raised his eyebrows.

 

“That’s new.”

 

“I have been doing it since I was unpackaged. Your eyes are usually averted when I do so.”

 

“Oh. Don’t do that anymore, it’s really weird.” Dean said nonchalantly. Then he headed for the living room.

 

Lord of the Rings: the only movie set long enough to provide you with a day’s worth of entertainment, no repeats, plenty of action. Long days when Dean didn’t want to think about more productive ways he could have been spending his time, he’d pop in the DVD and go along for the ride. Dean ran to the living room and searched through the clutter for the DVD’s.

 

“Can I help you find what you’re looking for?”

 

Dean jumped when Castiel’s voice hit his ears. “Yeah! Can you look for the Lord of the Rings trilogy? It’s a box set. I got it around here somewhere.”

 

“Yes, I can.” Castiel said. There was a loud whirring noise and Dean startled, ducking low as a ray shot itself from Castiel’s hand. Castiel waved it over the piles of junk in the living room until it flashed red. “It is under that pile of bills.” He said. “Be careful, there is also a butter knife under there.”

 

Dean laughed as he stepped over an old plate of pizza. Sure enough, underneath a stack of old electricity bills, the title peeked up at him. “Score.” he said. “Come on, sit down. We’re gonna watch these bad boys.”

 

Dean realized after he had taken a seat on the couch what he had just done. He’d ordered Castiel to watch a movie with him and as awkward as it was, he had a lot of pride. There was no backing out now. He folded his arms across his chest and pointedly kept his eyes away from his neighbor as the movie started up.

 

“This movie has very good reviews.” Castiel said quietly.

 

“It’s a long ass movie.” Dean admitted.

 

“The trilogy is 228 minutes long, to be exact.” Castiel continued.

 

Dean hummed and leaned back a little further into the couch. “So… do you actually watch the movie or… do you zone out? Record it and file it away?”

 

“I watch the movie in the same way that you do. My eyes take the image and make it something that my “brain” can work with. I store it as a “memory”. The difference between you and I is that I only retain information beneficial to you, and I have access to a computer at all times. I’m a wealth of knowledge that extends to the boundaries of human and artificial intelligence. Any information I do not know can be provided for you.”

 

“I got a computer in my head, too.”

 

“You do.” Castiel admitted. “It is a slightly different kind of computer.”

 

“How so?” Dean asked. On the screen, Bilbo slipped the ring between his fingers and observed it fondly.

 

“In you lies the ability to create. My computer is a creation of your computer. It’s based on things I can only comprehend in theory. Feelings, wishes, wants and dreams. Those things I do not have but I am able to research. It is thanks to you that I exist.”

 

Dean bit his lip. Bilbo screamed something awful.

 

“Maybe you’re lucky.” Dean said. It was weird talking to a robot, even more so when you began to discuss things like feelings. Robots didn’t understand, couldn’t do anything with the information other then file it away and hope to use it later in “research”.

 

The hours that passed quietly in the company of screaming orcs, tiny hobbits and gorgeous landscapes were comfortable enough. With the mental reminder that Dean didn’t have to talk to or even regard Castiel, Dean marathoned the movies until the sun went down and the alarm on his phone started to beep angrily once more.

 

\- - -

 

_“So how is he treating you?”_ Sam laughed through the phone.

 

“You know what, Sam? I want you to know how angry I am but I’m a little busy eating my depression via every cinnamon bun provided to the 7-11’s in a 50 mile radius of my apartment building.” Dean said.

 

_“I bet the cashiers are CIMSSA’s.”_ Sam said haughtily.

 

Dean bit his lip and snuck a peek over one of the candy racks. He’d never be able to tell. “So what?” He said back into the receiver.

 

_“Just giving you some perspective on how widely and well regarded these wonderful beings are.”_

 

“Right. Because you and Jess have one and it helps you do the dishes, laundry, school work, work work, cleaning and, if I know you, it probably takes a warm rag to your ass on a regular basis.”

 

_“You’re disgusting. And I’ll have you know, Gabe’s really helpful!”_ Sam yelled. _“When are we gonna see you again? Let’s make a date on Sunday. I know you have the day off, Castiel already told me. Make sure to bring him along.”_

 

Sam hung up and Dean pulled his phone away from his ear as he heard it click. He looked down at the screen in disdain and amusement before pushing it into his coat pocket and heading to the counter with his bag of snack sized cinnamon buns. He had every intention to finish this bag before he reached the next convenience store.

 

He almost missed the payment twice trying to scrutinize the cashier.

 

\- - -

 

Dean returned home to Castiel sitting on the couch. He’d taken to the new position after Dean told him that it might have been more comfortable for him, and that Dean would have preferred not being crowded in his own hallway by a robot.

 

“Dean.” Castiel acknowledged him as he entered the living room. “I have a message from one Lisa Braeden.”

 

Dean almost dropped his cinnabon. “What? Why do you have that?”

 

“She left a message with me earlier.”

 

Dean threw his Cinnabon on the ground. “What you’re tellin’ me is you answered my door.” Dean grumbled. “Alright, what’d she say.”

 

“That Ben is to be picked up on Sunday morning and returned by Sunday evening.”

 

“Fuck her.” Dean yelled, hand on his hip. “And fuck you! You can stop answering my god damn door. That bitch could have called me! You know what, don’t answer my door. Just crawl back in your god damn box and turn yourself off. You wouldn’ta answered the door she woulda gotten in contact with ME.” Dean yelled. He stomped off to his bedroom right as Castiel stood from the couch.

 

Dean sulked for an hour. He thought of ben. He punched his pillow a few times. Ben wasn’t even his kid, but he’d raised that little man from his earlier years. Lisa was the one that had fucked up and Dean was the one paying the price. So fuck Lisa. Fuck Castiel for answering the door and giving her an out. The woman wasn’t stupid, she had to know he wouldn’t have been wasting money on a maid. Perhaps the most maddening thing was that if someone had broken into Dean’s apartment, killed him and then answered the door? She wouldn’t have called to find out. The ever elusive cheating ex-girlfriend.

 

The only thing she had against him was a kid that didn’t belong to him.

 

Dean dozed off in between his mental rants until he slipped into a sleep he couldn’t quite crawl out of. The next time he opened his eyes was to the sound of his alarm. He cringed and covered his ears, upset that he hadn’t gotten a shake to his shoulder or something less demanding than the horrible blaring sound issuing from his phone.

 

That’s when he remembered Castiel.

 

“Shit, shit, shit.”

 

Dean jumped up, clothes from the previous day still on, unshowered, hair at odd angles. He ran downstairs and to the living room where he hoped Castiel was still somewhat functional. Of course, the man was right where he’d been ordered to go, standing in his charging dock with his eyes half closed and his hair falling all over his forehead. Dean let out a sigh of relief. So he hadn’t caused the unintentional depression and resulting suicide of a robot whose only wish was to serve.

 

As if sensing his relief, Castiel popped to life. His eyes zoned in and his head straightened up.

 

“Battery is at 98%. Good morning, Dean.” He unplugged himself and stepped out of the box.

 

“Er…” Dean said. “Morning.” He scratched the back of his head.

 

“What would you like for me to make you for breakfast?”

 

Maybe a good old plate of dignity since he hadn’t had any for awhile. Castiel spoke as if yesterday had never happened. Dean shook his head and responded, “I’m not hungry. I gotta get in the shower. I’m just… sorry for yelling at you yesterday.”

 

“I apologize for answering the door. I was under orders to remain at my charging dock and so I couldn’t emphasise this yesterday. I was out of line to assume your duties as primary tenant.”

 

Dean nodded. “I lost it. She’s made me just as crazy as she is. I swear I’m halfway psychotic. Just don’t answer the door for Lisa. She’s a… she needs to get in contact with  me and me only. She’ll go through every other channel but a goddamn phone to send me some message and I don’t have the patience for it anymore so, please, send her my way. Don’t give her any more outs.”

 

Castiel bowed softly and repeated, “What would you like for breakfast?”

 

“Bacon. A whole plate of it.”

 

As Castiel walked past, Dean could still smell the detergent on his clean clothing. Even being surrounded constantly by the horrible stench of an unclean environment couldn’t ruin Castiel’s near-perfect state. “Hey,” Dean said. “You wanna help me clean the living room later? Maybe it’s time to get this shit under control.”

 

Castiel’s eyes went wide and Dean laughed. There’s a first time for all sorts of human expression and the glimpse of surprise was refreshing enough. Dean continued quickly, “I’m gonna jump in the shower and eat, and then INSTEAD of watching another movie we’re gonna knock out the living room.”

  
Castiel’s eyes went fuzzy momentarily before he cleared himself up and said, “Yes, Dean.” 


	2. This Head I Hold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been beta'd by my friend who is also encouraging me to finish it! I've typed up quite a bit of it and at forty pages it's a handful. Just finished chapter three. I'll try and update every two days because I don't want anyone who's reading it to wait. Thanks for checking it out!

Dean ended up keeping Castiel around for more than a week, but only because Sam wouldn’t give him the gift receipt. When Sunday rolled around Castiel followed Dean the three blocks to Sam’s house. He talked and talked. Dean put a coat on him for show, because as much as he appreciated the gift of a man-lookalike that didn’t need anything men needed, there were still people who would rather cut off the heads of every robot that tried to assimilate into society then befriend and accept them. Castiel didn’t deserve to be beheaded.

 

Meanwhile, none were any the wiser. For every person that knew Dean, nobody asked any specific questions about his new friend from out of town. Dean told them some bullcock story anyway and Castiel knew better than to deny the information. He greeted them kindly, if a little awkwardly, and carried onwards.

 

When they arrived at Sam’s house dinner had been prepared, Sam and Jessica were trying unsuccessfully to hook up a new dvd player without the help of Gabriel, their CIMSSA. Instead they had the AI answer the door in their place.

 

“Good evening, you glorified buttplug.” Gabriel said with a smile. Dean guffawed, a noise of disagreement running out of his mouth.

 

“What the fuck? Sam, you little bitch.” Dean said as he pushed past the robot.

 

Dean could hear Sam and Jessica laughing from the living room. “You can program that thing to say whatever you want it to say!” One of them yelled.

 

Castiel stayed just outside of the door until Gabriel tried to shut it on him, at which point Dean yelled indignantly and yanked the robot in the house after him.

 

“Welcome back,” Sam said. “Feels like it’s been forever.”

 

Dean went into the living room and gave Jess a hug before smacking Sam on the head. “That’s ‘cause it has been.”

 

“I think we’ve made enough food for four people.” Jessica said.

 

“Four?” Dean asked.

 

“Yeah, You, me, Sam and Ben.” Jessica said.

 

Dean blinked a few times and cleared his throat. “Yeah, er… Lisa’s not allowing me to see him today. We kinda got into it a couple of days ago ‘cause Cas answered the door and she, uh, took it upon herself to ban me from seeing him for the next month or two, today included. She’s not one to keep promises.”

 

Jessica gasped dramatically.

 

“Dean, that’s ridiculous.” Sam said. He put down the DVD played. “Gabriel, would you mind coming and setting this thing up? I actually can’t figure out what I’m doing wrong.”

 

While Gabriel went into the living room and took the player out of Sam’s hand, Dean explained, “It’s cool. The thing is, Lisa thinks she can hold Ben over me. I love that kid more than I love myself most times but I’m not willing to give up my freedom of choice for his psycho of a mom, right? The one thing I got is decisions and free will and I can’t hand that over just because some woman is dangling my - her kid over me. Then I’d have nothing that she couldn’t take away.”

 

Jessica nodded. “Well, new house rule. We don’t talk about that woman in here.”

 

“Hallelujah.” Gabriel said from behind them. Sam laughed.

 

“Amen. Let’s go eat!” Sam suggested, clapping his hands.

 

Neither robot followed them to the kitchen. Castiel hadn’t even followed them to the living room. He stood in the entranceway of the house with his coat and shoes still on, his hands still folded politely in front of him. As Sam, Jess and Dean passed him to get to the kitchen, they gave him a once over.

 

“You have to tell him it’s alright to move around in here, Dean. This isn’t his house.” Jessica said.

 

“Oh. Right.” Dean cleared his throat again. “Hey, er… why don’t you hang out with Gabriel?”

 

Castiel looked at Dean with an incredibly neutral expression and said, “If that’s what you would like for me to do.”

 

“I mean, only if that’s what you wanna do.”

 

“You can’t say that, Dean.” Sam cut in. “He’s a robot. He’s made to do what you tell him to do. He doesn’t understand what it means to want something ‘cause it’s not in his code. Whenever you say that, he just stands there and tries to process it, but there’s really nothing else he can do when you give him the green light to go buckwild.”

 

“Mmm, ‘cause then they’d become self aware, right? They’d basically be human and it’s morally wrong to keep and use a human as a slave.” Dean grunted. “Well, If that’s the case, just go stand in a corner in the living room. Keep out of the way.”

 

“Yes, Dean.” Castiel said.

 

“Wait! Wait. Take the coat off and hang it up when you go in houses.” He said.

 

“Of course.” Castiel shrugged out of Dean’s old coat and hung it beside all of the others on the wall. He then walked off and disappeared into the living room where Dean found him, hours after he’d finished eating, standing in the corner beside Gabriel.

 

\- - -

 

It was two weeks into having Castiel as a housemate that Dean began to appreciate what he could do for the place. With the living room, bathroom, kitchen and hallways cleaned to near perfection, Dean was more grateful than he could have explained to something like Castiel. Instead, he gave the robot downtime and hoped he’d do something other than sit and wait for his next set of instructions.

 

Castiel didn’t like the concept of free time. He’d spend it doing things that Dean had already praised him for: cooking, cleaning and fixing the various broken machinery throughout the house. Dean had never been a fan of electronics so he didn’t have many, but Castiel was working hard to fix a walkman that Dean hadn’t seen since he was a teenager.

 

March began to warm up and Dean forewent his cellphone several times in favor of Castiel tapping him on the forehead to wake him up (not caressing, absolutely not caressing).

 

“Good morning, Dean. It’s 7:00 on a Wednesday morning, March 5th and the temperature is 32 degrees celsius. Chance of rain is at 5% and the wind speed is 9 miles per hour. Downstairs I’ve prepared a cup of coffee, as per your request.”

 

“Thanks, Cas. You’re a doll.” Dean mumbled.

 

“Cas.” The robot said softly.

 

“Er…” Dean said.

 

“Are you renaming me, Dean?”

 

“No! No, it’s a nickname. It’s just a shortened version of your name.” Dean said. “So how about that coffee.” If Dean hadn’t been awake before, he certainly was now.

 

Dean followed Castiel downstairs. The robot had made himself at home. The table was cleared and reset with all of Dean’s favorite breakfast fixings for the perfect cup of coffee. On the counter was the walkman that Castiel had been working on.

 

“Any luck with that thing?” Dean asked.

 

“Yes. I’ve fixed it three times. I’m in the process of upgrading it.” Castiel responded.

 

“Oh.” Dean said. He ripped open the packets of sugar. “When did I start getting this kind of sugar?”

 

“You didn’t. Sam dropped them off and left them on the porch. He said you were in need of some.”

 

“I don’t need any su-” Dean started. He quickly closed his mouth, thought it through, and then dropped it. “Uh, nevermind. Listen, I’m going to the roadhouse later today. I don’t know if you have any plans or if you’d be bored enough to come along.”

 

“I don’t get bored.” Castiel said.

 

“Right. Well then just stay here and find something to do.”

 

Castiel didn’t say anything. He fiddled with the walkman.

 

“Yeah, upgrade the walkman.” Dean amended. He reminded himself not to be too vague giving orders to this thing. “You like doing that sort of thing anyway, right?”

 

“Would you like me to accompany you to the Roadhouse, Dean?” Castiel asked.

 

“Not necessarily. I just thought you’d be bored here by yourself.” Dean said, suddenly embarrassed. “Listen, it’s not a big deal. I just thought I’d extend the invitation. I forgot for a minute you were just a stupid robot.”

 

Castiel placed the walkman on the counter and turned to face Dean with his hands folded in front of him. “If that is the case,” he said, “I will go and clean the bathroom for you. Please travel safely and do not hesitate to call if you need to be retrieved.”

 

Dean hurriedly drank his coffee and dropped the cup in the sink. He removed the walkman from the counter to keep it from getting wet and placed it on the table, instead. Hopefully Castiel would be playing with it when he got back. It kept him from looking too much like an automated system and made him look much more human.

 

The weather had warmed up and it felt nice. It was at a comfortable body temperature and Dean decided to leave his coat unzipped. He slipped into the roadhouse which was much emptier than last time, and Benny waved at him happily from behind the counter.

 

“Missed Jo again.” Benny chided.

 

“Yeah, just hit me before I go home.” Dean countered. He settled himself at the bar top and tossed down a wad of cash. “How drunk can I get off of this?”

 

Benny pushed the money back towards him. “On the house. What’s eatin’ atcha?”

 

“Where do you want me to start?” Dean asked.

 

“Wherever you left off at.” Benny said.

 

Dean spent hours explaining everything that had happened since two weeks ago. He mentioned Lisa being a raving bitch, he mentioned a hot girl at work who happened to be a potential replacement, and then he mentioned Sam refusing to return the gift receipt.

 

“Man, you still got that thing?”

 

“Benny, as much as I want to, I can’t just leave it outside. Someone might think it’s a person. I don’t need my kid brother’s gift to me being prostituted. He wouldn’t talk to me for a year.”

 

Benny agreed. “Yeah, but you gotta tell him, man. You can’t keep that thing.”

 

“What’s your deal with ‘em anyway?” Dean asked, tipping back something that burned long before it even hit his throat.

 

“Mm.” Benny said.

 

Dean decided to drop it and just polish off his drinks. “I got work later so I’ll try and stop in sometime tonight. I’m off tomorrow and I’m looking to get smashed and laid tonight.”

 

Benny laughed. “Yeah, man. Dollar drink night. You could leave with seven girls if you wanted to. I’ll let Jo know you’re comin’ through. She misses you.”

 

\- - -

 

When Dean returned from the roadhouse, slightly drunk, Castiel was still standing in the bathroom. He had a rag in his hand and both arms were dangling loosely at his sides.

 

“Good evening, Dean.” Castiel said indifferently. “Would you like me to do anything for you?”

 

“Naw, I’m just gonna take a quick nap before work. I might’ve overdone it this time. I can’t actually go to work drunk, they’ll fire me.” Dean said.

 

“What can I do to be a more intelligent CIMSSA?” Castiel asked suddenly. “I would prefer to be… my design does not know how to process ‘stupid robot’ and I don’t know how to patch that specific level of reprimanding.”

 

“Awww, man. I was just angry. You’re not really a stupid robot. Shit, you’re smarter then me.” Dean said. He felt like a colossal dick. Even if Castiel didn’t feel in the conventional way, he understood concepts enough to feel bad about his level of intelligence.

 

“Yes.” He said, tucking the rag into the jeans pocket. He was still outfitted in Dean’s clothing.

 

“Tomorrow we’re going clothes shopping for you.” Dean said.

 

“That sounds like a good idea.” Castiel said with a soft smile. Dean almost dropped to the floor out of surprise.

 

“Hey! You smiled!”

 

“Yes. I learned how and when to do it.” Castiel said.

 

Maybe a little bit of the magic leaked out. It was a learned behavior. At least he was smiling.

 

“Yeah, well we all learn how and when to do it.” Dean admitted. “Even me.”

 

Castiel looked down at the rag hanging off of his pants. “Good night, Dean. Is there anything else I can assist you with?”

 

Dean shook his head and went off to his bedroom to get some shuteye.

 

Despite having told Castiel that there was nothing else he could do, the robot appeared in his room a few hours later to send him off to work and was waiting at the door for him to return afterwards with the walkman in his hand.

 

“I have finished with the update. It can now play cassettes, CD’s and MP3 files.” Castiel said as he walked through the door.

 

“What? No way! Man, that’s awesome.” Dean said. “Let me take a look at it.”

 

Castiel gladly handed it over and stepped aside. He followed Dean as the man walked through the hallway and into the living room, inspecting it.

 

“Shit, if I could do the things you can.” Dean said. “I’d be a rich man.”

 

“I have made you something to eat for dessert. I know that you usually eat out on work nights.”

 

“Yeah, I don’t have time to cook and all that. What’d you make?”

 

Castiel went quiet for a second as Dean opened the walkman. “Cherry pie.”

 

Dean dropped the walkman. He yelped and picked it back up quickly, wiping it off and looking sheepishly over at Castiel. “Oops. Uhm, I love pie.”

 

“I know.” Castiel said with a small nod. He cautiously took the walkman from Dean’s hands and set it aside, heading off to the kitchen. “That’s why I made it.”

 

Dean bounced after him. “Hey, let’s both eat pie and watch a movie. Can you eat?”

 

“I can.” Castiel said.

 

Dean wouldn’t have considered himself more or less happy than he regularly was, but pie could do things to his mental state that even a tiger in the sack couldn’t accomplish. He was surprised that he couldn’t smell it, but when he entered the kitchen he could tell it had long since been put on a cooling rack.

 

“Man,” Dean said.

 

“Allow me.” Castiel said, grabbing some plates and dishing out enough pie for both of them.

 

“Can I… uh…”

 

“Would you like another one?” Castiel asked. “This is your pie.” He grabbed another piece and slipped it on the plate before handing it over to Dean. “I’d appreciate feedback. I used a standard recipe.”

 

“Standard, nonstandard. Pie is pie, but no one makes it better then my mom. Maybe I’ll have her share it with you so that in my freetime I can stuff myself. I’d love to be transformed into a pie.”

 

Castiel nodded his head. “I don’t think that’s possible, but dreams are what humans are made of. It is a little strange that of all possibilities, you would choose to morph into a pie.”

 

Dean agreed. “Childhood dream. Let’s go eat. I got a movie I think you’d enjoy.”

 

“Of course, Dean.” He said.

 

Dean put in The Boondock Saints, another favorite. Though it was much shorter than Lord of the Rings, it was just as entertaining everytime he watched it. Two badass twin brothers taking on Boston and doing the jobs that the cops aren’t quite equipped to handle.

 

“Think you can keep up?” Dean asked.

 

“You underestimate the computer in my head.” Castiel said. He had yet to touch his food.

 

“You’re not gonna try it?”

 

Castiel looked down at the plate skeptically. “I am going to eat it momentarily.” Dean watched him until he ripped a piece of the pie off and placed it on his tongue. He closed his mouth and started to chew slowly and then he swallowed.

 

“What’s it taste like?” Dean asked through his smile.

 

“I suppose it tastes like pie.” Castiel answered.

 

“Can you actually taste it?”

 

Castiel shook his head. “Of course, I was equipped with the full kitchen software. I have taste buds so that I can line my recipes up with the things you enjoy eating. Occasionally foods don’t provide recipes and it is my responsibility to discover the ingredients.”

 

“Oh.” Dean said. He turned back to the television. “Robot problems.”

 

“Yes.” Castiel said.

 

The two watched the remainder of the film in silence. At some point, Castiel began to beep and he quickly silenced himself by pressing his thigh. Dean didn’t ask questions, but more so and more so, there were little reminders that his company wasn’t completely human after all.

 

\- - -

 

Dean’s boss was named Crowley, and he was an absolute dick.

 

When the pile of papers landed on Dean’s desk, he didn’t even need to confirm that he was supposed to stay overtime, he just ignored the alarm on his desk telling him to go home. He pushed papers and punched numbers through hours in the morning that shouldn’t have existed outside of sex and booze. When the clock finally struck 4 and Meg came in for her morning shift he was exhausted.

 

“Dude, you’re still here.” Meg said. She walked to his desk with a donut wrapped in a napkin and a cup. “I thought you might be. Crowley was dicking around hard last night, wondering whose life he could ruin with that stack. Thanks for taking it.”

 

“I’m two stamps away from quitting.” Dean said quietly.

 

Meg reached out and took the stamp from his hand. “Then get out of here because the last thing we need to be is down one hard-ass worker. Punch out, go home and sleep.”

 

Dean rubbed his eyes and reached for the cup of coffee. “This for me?”

 

“Yeah. I want you to make it home safely.”

 

“Coffee right before I go home and go to bed? Naw,” Dean said. “Promise I’ll make it back. If not, Crowley’s not invited to my damn funeral.”

 

“Ha ha,” Meg said. “Nobody’s dying. Get your ass to bed.”

 

Dean shut down his computer and grabbed his coat. Fuck today. Yesterday. Last night that led into today because last night didn’t go how he’d planned for it to go.

 

Sexually frustrated and half delirious with sleep, Dean walked home. His work was blocks from his house but he didn’t trust himself to drive his baby in this weather with his mind the way it was. Maybe he’d have Cas piggyback him to the parking lot tomorrow to get her.

 

Dean got home and all but collapsed in the hallway. He threw off his coat and was surprised that he didn’t hear that half-gruff “Good Morning, Dean” coming from the living room. He quickly ran in to check on his robot, well Sam’s robot that he was temporarily holding onto for some unknown purpose, only to find him charging. His eyes were half closed as always and his hair was the same length, only slightly straighter. Dean remembered that he’d promised a shopping trip today.

 

Stepping closer to the box, Dean looking on the walls inside of it. Castiel’s battery reading was at 94%. Dean smiled to himself and walked away in the direction of his room. He didn’t process anything else until Castiel woke him up hours later. His phone had been silenced and the wallclock was reading 1 in the afternoon.

 

“Good Morning, Dean.” Castiel said from the doorway. “I checked your schedule and saw you had no obligations. I also noticed that you did not return at your regular time. Today is your day off. I hope you don’t mind that I took the liberty of silencing  your phone as it would have left you barely functional.”

 

“Not a problem, man.” Dean said through the grunge in his throat. “I gotta pick up my baby today.” Castiel’s eyes glazed over and Dean quickly added, “She’s my car. Don’t go searching the database for a kid with the last name Winchester.”

 

“Yes. Would you like me to get her?” Castiel asked.

 

“S’okay. I can walk. I’ll go grab her in a few.”

 

Castiel nodded and stood in the doorway. Dean watched him until he said, “Are you still available to accompany me clothes shopping?”

 

Dean hadn’t forgotten. He was surprised Castiel took the initiative to remind him, though.

 

“Yeah. I’ll go pick her up and then swing by and pick you up.”

 

“I can walk with you.” Castiel responded.

 

Dean shrugged and sat up. “I don’t see why not. Let me just get in the shower.”

 

Castiel stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him. Dean heard it click before he got out of bed, stripped and grabbed his towel. Then he ran to the shower and cleaned himself off. He’d wasted half the day sleeping because Crowley couldn’t get his shit together. God only knows Sam was right when he said Dean needed to cool it.

 

“I have no life,” Dean said through a mouthful of water. Then he turned off the tap to keep from drowning himself.

 

\- - -

 

Castiel had put on a coat and was waiting in the hallway with his hands folded happily behind his back. He rocked back and forth on his feet as he waited for Dean to get ready.

 

“Is it gonna rain today? Looks a little dark out.”

 

“Yes. I have retrieved your umbrella.”

 

“Yeeahhh,” Dean drawled. “I only have one.”

 

“I don’t require an umbrella. The skin they have outfitted me with is waterproof and will keep my insides from being damaged.”

 

“I’m not a douche, Cas. I can’t just let you walk with me and get soaked. You also can’t get in my car wet. She doesn’t like that.” Dean said. “We’ll have to share.”

 

Castiel nodded. “If that is alright with you.”

 

Dean put on his rainboots on and provided a pair for Castiel as well. He took the umbrella from the robot before the two stepped outside and into the rain together. Dean was mindful of Castiel’s hair that already seemed to be picking up the humidity.

 

“You gotta get close in here, Cas. You’re gonna get the coat wet.” Dean advised.

 

“Of course.” Castiel said. He stepped closer and Dean looked over at him. Castiel looked good. It might have been the hair dropping right over his eyes or the gorgeous shape of his eyes, the sharp blue color Sam had picked out for him, the way he occasionally sucked his lips in and then let them out. Dean shook his head. Sexual frustration was about the same level as a capital offense. Jesus, he was getting dehydrated.

 

Dean cleared his throat. “I might go out tomorrow.” He said.

 

“Yes.” Castiel replied.

 

“Would you like to come? Maybe we can find you someone to show your new clothes off to.”

 

Castiel looked over at Dean and to keep it from getting awkward, Dean looked away. “Dean, I don’t need to show them off. I have no desire to appease anybody but you.”

 

Dean blushed. “Uh, y-you shouldn’t say that sort of thing. If that’s the case, don’t waste my money - you could just run around naked.”

 

“If that’s what you’d like for me to do.”

 

Dean considered the nearest puddle. How painful would it be to drown himself? Could robots get the wrong idea? “All I’m saying is I need a wingman.”

 

“I can be a wingman.” Castiel said. “Unfortunately, the FAQ states that I can not be sold for purposes of prostitution. I can only be used for the sexual satisfaction of the primary owner. If I am your wingman and I am propositioned, it is in my code to alert whom it may concern that I am in fact a CIMSSA, not a human.”

 

“Well that’s good. I don’t really want to turn you into some crazy person’s perverted fantasy.”

 

The parking lot was soaked. By the time Dean had jumped over several puddles, Castiel’s hair had gotten soaked. Dean had to grab a towel out of the trunk and wrap it around Castiel’s head. “Keep that on, I don’t want you drippin’ on my seat.” He closed his umbrella and tossed it on the floor in the backseat before climbing in the front. Castiel followed suit.

 

“So, first we’ll hit up Sears or something.” Dean said. “I actually don’t go clothes shopping for me. My mom does.”

 

Castiel turned to face him. “I know.”

 

Dean stared at Castiel for a minute before starting up the car and driving off.

 

Sears was mostly abandoned, save the few mothers shopping for birthday gifts or what have them. Dean reached for the umbrella because the sky had ripped a bitch in the last ten minutes and the rain was coming down in buckets.

 

“Dean, I think it best we stay in the car. The rain will die down in five minutes.”

 

“Meh, what’s a little water.” Dean said.

 

“It can be dangerous.” Castiel insisted. “If you still wish to go, I will follow you.”

 

Dean sighed loudly but didn’t open the door or get out. Instead, he turned up the radio.

 

The rain died down minutes later as Castiel had predicted and Dean was the first to ‘whoop’ and grab the umbrella. Castiel made a reach for the door and Dean hissed at him, “ah, ah, ah. Let me get the door. I don’t need you more wet then you are. Take of that towel, too.”

 

Castiel did as he was told while Dean got out and ran to his side of the car with the coverage.

 

“Thank you, Dean.” Castiel said as he stepped out under the shade of the umbrella. Dean grunted and closed the door around him and the two ran into the clothing store, rain still getting kicked up onto the back of their clothes.

 

The first place Castiel went was to the electronics. Not on purpose, possibly out of confusion or curiosity. Dean followed him and didn’t say a word until he began to search through discounted walkmans. Castiel looked at them for a minute before putting them back in the discount bin.

 

“I’m sorry. I should have followed you.” Castiel said.

 

“Yeah, we kinda went the opposite direction.” Dean said. He shook his umbrella out. “but it’s cool - whatever you wanna look at.”

 

“I don’t want to do anything,” Castiel said, “outside of what you want.”

 

One aisle over, a maintenance man was cringing and possibly crying jealously. In Dean and Castiel’s aisle, Dean was getting ready to take Castiel back home to keep him from saying such awkward things. “Come on, we gotta get some shirts and pants. You probably got a map up there somewhere, right? Lead the way.”

 

Castiel weaved through the aisles with Dean on his heel until they arrived at the mens section of the store. “Here we are.” Castiel said.

 

Dean rubbed his hands together around the bulk of the umbrella before saying, “Alright. We got outfits to buy.”

 

Castiel looked around. “Are you expecting me to look for the outfits?”

 

Dean nodded. “They’re gonna be your clothes, so yeah.”

 

Castiel looked between Dean and the large racks of clothing. “Yes, but I don’t know what I should be looking for. You haven’t given me a style, price range, or size.”

 

“You don’t know you own size?” Dean asked.

 

“Do you know your own size?” Castiel asked.

 

“Well, no…” Dean admitted. He shook his head quickly, “Listen! It’s not about me right now. You’ve gotta know you’re ow- oh, shit.”

 

Dean looked over Castiel’s shoulder, eyes zoning in on none other than Benny browsing through the shirts. As if on cue, Benny looked up from the dark grey long sleeved shirt in his hand. Benny smirked and nodded his head and Dean couldn’t have acted like he hadn’t seen Benny.

 

“Alright, Cas. Listen. You don’t introduce yourself as a CIMSSA, okay?” Dean whispered heatedly. “You’re my friend from school back when I was young and you’re staying for an indefinite amount of time while they remodel your recently flooded house.”

 

Castiel nodded his head. “I’m going to assume you’re talking about that young man perusing the fall long-sleeves. I won’t introduce myself as a CIMSSA unless he propositions me.”

 

Dean hissed and lightly tapped Castiel on the arm. “He’s not gonna do that. Dude’s straight as a ruler. Come on,”

 

The two walked over together, Dean stiff and nervous, Castiel unaffected.

 

“Beennnyyyy,” Dean said, arms open to give his friend a hug. Benny went into it, shirt held out to keep it from getting smooshed.

 

“Who's the company?” Benny asked almost immediately. Dean was pulling back as Castiel introduced himself.

 

“I’m Castiel. I’m Dean’s friend from school back when he was young and I’m staying with him for an indefinite amount of time while they remodel my recently flooded house.”

 

Benny raised both eyebrows and looked at Dean. “Right.” He said slowly.

 

To keep himself from passing out, Dean quickly jumped in. “He’s a little… weird, uh…. so, what brings you… what brings you, uh, here…”

 

Benny waved his shirt. “Gotta replace the one I tore at the roadhouse.”

 

“Oh?” Dean asked. “How’d that happen?”

 

“Barfight.” Benny said. “As much as I’d like to stay an chat, I got a date. Listen, bring your friend by the roadhouse next time you come. I’d love to ask about your… younger years.” Benny said, scrutinizing his shirt in between phrases. “Looks like this is the right size. I’ll be seein’ you.” He said with a final tip of his head.

 

Castiel mimicked the action and Benny laughed, tapping him jovially on the shoulder as he walked away with the sweater dangling from his arm.

 

Dean let out a deep breath of relief. He begged himself not to think about what Benny had just asked, and he certainly wasn’t complaining that Benny hadn’t assumed Castiel was his CIMSSA. He’d never told Benny the name, right? Maybe he’d just rename the thing so that when they were at the roadhouse he wouldn’t be noticed.

 

“When you’re around him,” Dean said suddenly, “you’re Jimmy.”

 

Castiel agreed.

 

Dean shook his head and the said, “Jesus, can’t even go shopping without having a damn anxiety attack. Let’s get this over with.”

 

\- - -

 

Castiel couldn’t be trusted to buy himself clothes, but he certainly had a decent taste in music.

 

It seemed like he had been cookie-cut out of a magazine to fit Dean’s needs and tastes, which was actually probably the case. Sam more than likely put music preference into the machine. After looking through the entire selection of classic rock and metallica, he shifted over to the classical music and Dean followed him without complaint.

 

“This Waltz is very nice,” Castiel said, fingers running over the CD cases. “Highly regarded.”

 

“Never heard it.” Dean said.

 

Castiel nodded his head but didn’t comment further. He huffed and stepped away from the CD’s with his unpurchased clothes. “I’m sorry, I’ve come over here again.”

 

“Dude, it’s fine.” Dean said.

 

“Are you ready to check out? Allow me to… take your clothes.” Castiel said, reaching for the small pile in Dean’s arms. Dean turned away.

 

“I got it. Let’s just get outta here.”

 

Castiel looked a little downtrodden, but quickly corrected himself. “Yes, let’s check out.”

 

Dean strayed a little behind as Castiel walked on ahead. He grabbed the Michael Dulin CD and made a resolution to sit down and listen to it in his freetime.

 


	3. You're Not Stubborn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, check for updated warnings and pairings just to make sure you know what you're getting yourself into. Feedback is always appreciated, and thank you for reading!

April brought rain and bad habits.

 

Dean worked more often than he should have and in his downtime, he slept. His frequent afternoon trips to the roadhouse wore down to once-a-week visits that Benny refused to comment on and Sam refused to cater to. 

 

Dean’s exhaust translated over to Castiel who didn’t know what to do with himself. Dean couldn’t think of anything that would keep him busy, but he’d forbid him from watching Lord of the Rings for the next year because of the amount of times he’d put it on in the background and let that stupid Enya song echo through the apartment. Once or twice, Dean had observed Castiel riffling through things, flipping through books and CD’s. Otherwise he sat in the living room in front of his charging dock and waited for Dean to call him.

 

It wasn’t until the end of April that Castiel mentioned Dean’s habits.

 

“Dean,” Castiel started over breakfast. “I would like for you to consider cutting back your hours at work.”

 

Dean picked up his fork and began to chop his pancakes into little pieces. “Aren’t you supposed to not be making suggestions to me? I thought you were here to do what I say.”

 

“In the event that your welfare is compromised, I’m at liberty to mention…”

 

“Yeah, yeah, okay.” Dean said, waving him off. “It’s just for this month, right? Crowley’s booked and I gotta help him sort through the paperwork.”

 

“Sam is concerned about you.” Castiel mumbled.

 

“What was that?” Dean said, holding his fork stiff. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t hear you.”

 

“Sam is concerned about you.” Castiel said louder. “He has been calling and you’re asleep every time. He has been trying to get a hold of you this entire week to invite you out for dinner.”

 

“You mumbled.” Dean said, still confused. “I didn’t know you could do that. What other...uh, indistinct functions do you have?”

 

“Of course I can mumble.” Castiel said. “I can whisper.”

 

“Whispering I understand. Shouting I understand. Mumbling I don’t understand. That’s something nervous people do when they want to say something, but they don’t really want others to hear them doin’ it.”

 

“I don’t believe that’s the purpose.” Castiel admitted. “My primary function is to aid you and be as human as possible at the same time. I am learning.”

 

“So what use does mumbling have and who did you learn it from?” Dean asked.

 

Castiel faltered before confidently saying, “It was an error.”

 

“An error.” Dean said in disbelief.

 

“Yes. It was meant to be a whisper to maximize empathy so that you would listen to my suggestion. Unfortunately, one of my… mouth...cogs needs to be reset and instead of my voicebox rearranging its audio level, my entire mouth seemed to malfunction.”

 

What a load of bullshit. Dean laughed and shook his head. “You’re learning too fast, you liar. You need to observe me a little more, learn how to lie without getting busted.”

 

“I am not lying.” Castiel said patiently.

 

“Yeah, yeah. Sure. Will you come to dinner with me?” Dean asked. “I’m gonna call Sam and take him up on the offer. I’ll just have to call off of work.”

 

“Yes,” Castiel said. He frowned and opened his mouth to say something else before closing it and asking, “what else may I assist you with?”

 

“I just wanna eat this. You want some?”

 

Castiel shook his head. “I have already tried it.”

 

“What? When!” Now Dean was getting indignant.

 

“We had this conversation. I try everything before you eat it. I need to make sure it’s to the standards you agreed with last time.”

 

“Alright, snooty pants.” Dean said, putting his hands up. Castiel smiled very faintly. “There it is,” Dean said, smirking to himself. “Got him to smile… kind of.”

 

Castiel wiped his face clean of the expression, folding his hands politely in front of himself. Dean went back to his food and cleaned the plate.

 

“What’s the weather lookin’ like?” Dean asked.

 

“It’s raining for the remainder of the week.”

 

“It’s too bad. I wanted to visit the movie store and maybe get another movie.”

 

Castiel’s eyes glassed over for a second before he made a chirping noise. “You can purchase movies and television through my charging dock. There is a 2% gratuity tip for the company, but I am capable of attaching the television to the box if you are interested.”

 

Dean didn’t waste any time accepting the offer. After Castiel cleaned the plates from the table, the two went into the living room to hook the box and the television together. Dean sat back in the middle of the living room, scooting a few of Castiel’s discovered texts out of the way while Castiel scanned a few things, looked for a few cables that Dean had never purchased, and then proceeded to put everything together.

 

“These wires are borrowed material.” Castiel warned Dean. “You have to be careful with them. Should you purchase excess packs for me, you will use these wires to upload them.”

 

“Excess packs?”

 

“Yes. That is, primarily, how I learn things.”

 

“How you’re supposed to learn things.” Dean corrected. “Looks like you’re doing fine without ‘em.”

 

Castiel didn’t respond. He turned on the television and began to fiddle with the remote.

 

“Hey, Cas.” Dean prompted.

 

“Yes, Dean.”

 

“Do you wanna pick the movie today?”

 

Castiel turned to look at Dean. “No. I would like for you to pick the movie.”

 

Dean laughed loudly, falling back and holding his stomach. “Whaddya mean “no”. You can’t just say it like that!”

 

With the television ready, Castiel took a seat beside Dean to show him the basic controls. Dean sat back up.

 

“If you look on your screen, you’ll see that there’s a search option. This is the main screen. It’s not run by any CIMSSA agency, but the company still accepts a portion of the proceeds to advertise and provide for the company which hosts the movies.”

 

“Damn,” Dean said. “These look expensive. You’d better choose wisely.”

 

Castiel opened his mouth in what seemed like an objection, only to say, “Are you sure I can pick the movie?”

 

“Of course! My t.v., my rules right? I want you to pick.”

 

Castiel looked down at the remote in his hand and bit his lip. Dean’s breath caught in his throat before he pointedly looked away. Castiel wasn't attractive or unattractive. Dean couldn’t allow himself to start thinking along those lines. The punchline he HAD to remember was that Castiel wasn’t human and so any relationship with him was equivalent to Dean dicking his computer.

 

Then again, Dean’s computer never epitomized a reactive blow up doll.

 

“Jesus, no. No, no, no.” Dean groaned to himself, covering his face with his hand.

 

“What’s wrong, Dean?” Castiel said. He seemed concerned, but Dean couldn't trust that. It was in his coding. A dead customer was about as good as no customer. “Are you hurt?”

 

“No, I’m alright. Just, uh, just a put a movie on.”

 

Castiel hesitated but did as he was told. He went back to scrolling through the movies. “Do you have any suggestions? Is there anything you would like to see?”

 

“That’s the same as me picking the movie! Look, whatever’s fine. I’m just gonna…” Dean cut himself off. He didn’t know what he was going to do. “I’m gonna move to the couch so my ass doesn’t hurt.”

 

“Should I also sit on the couch?” Castiel asked.

 

“You don’t have to. Your butt’s not gonna go numb.”

 

Regardless, Castiel followed Dean to the couch and took a seat. “I think we should watch The Little Mermaid.” Castiel said. “or we could watch pinocchio.”

 

“So it’s the choice between the mermaid and the puppet.”

 

Castiel lifted the remote to the television and “The Little Mermaid” came up. “My program is saying that this is one of your favorite movies.”

 

“Cas, I need you to set an alarm for me stepping on Sam’s big head.” Dean said. “He’s programmed you with all kinds of weird shit.”

 

Castiel put the movie on play and leaned back, handing the remote to Dean. “This isn’t your favorite movie?”

 

Dean didn’t answer. He put the remote on the armrest and leaned back himself, getting comfortable.

 

“Hey, Cas,” He said again.

 

“Yes, Dean.”

 

“What do you think about when I’m not tellin’ you what to do?”

 

“I don’t.” Castiel responded.

 

Dean didn’t believe that for a second. The few times he’d caught Castiel messing with things in his downtime had told him one thing, Castiel was curious. Whether that’d been programmed or not didn’t matter, Castiel had learned how to be it.

 

“You have to think about something.”

 

Castiel stared intently at the screen. “Occasionally, I’ll have the… urge to look something up, touch something, clean something, upgrade something. Otherwise my brain hibernates and boots up at the sound of your voice.”

 

Another lie. Well, half lie. Castiel was definitely finding ways to keep himself busy to keep from hibernating, if the constant creaking of walking and paper sounds all throughout the day were any indication. “We should get out of the apartment more. I feel like we’re both becoming hermits or something.”

 

Castiel looked over at dean with something akin to amusement, but Dean kept his eyes on the television. When it was clear that Castiel wasn’t watching the movie anymore, Dean chanced a glance at him. “What?”

 

“Can we go to the library?”

 

“Uh… it’s not really my scene. I don’t have time to sit around with how much I work. All I want to do is sleep, really.”

 

“Do you enjoy reading?”

 

Dean sighed heavily. “I just don’t have time to.”

 

Castiel nodded and turned back to the movie. Dean did the same for a while, but with his distraction and understanding that Castiel already knew what was going to happen, Dean jumped up off of the couch. Castiel watched him.

 

“Do you wanna go to the library now?”

 

“Yes, I do.”

 

Dean smiled and ran to the hallway to outfit himself appropriately for the weather. Castiel went through the motions, too, even though he didn’t have to worry about things like pneumonia and blue toes. He slipped into Dean’s shoes and coat and wrapped a complimentary scarf around his neck. He then grabbed an extra scarf he’d found in the living room and wrapped it around Dean’s neck.

 

“I don’t wear scarves,” Dean objected, but he didn’t take it off.

 

“You should start. The weather hasn’t broken yet. It won’t for another month.”

 

“Aww, it’s gonna rain for a month?”

 

Castiel nodded and tightened the scarf. “Yes, for the most part. So please take care of  yourself and dress appropriately.”

 

“Thanks, Mom,” Dean said. He pulled on his boots and grabbed his keys, opening the door and stepping aside so that Castiel could step through. Castiel grabbed the umbrella and opened it on outside, holding it over Dean’s head as he locked the door. Then the two of them ran to the car together, Castiel holding the umbrella and getting in last. He copied Dean’s earlier example of tossing it in the back seat before getting in himself.

 

“I find it incredibly weird that you can run,” Dean huffed. “How did they make you?”

 

“En masse,” Castiel said. He put on his seatbelt and Dean smiled over at him.

 

“Seat belt. Safety first, right? It’s not like you can die.”

 

Castiel folded his hands in his lap and looked over at Dean with an unreadable expression. “No, I cannot die because I’m not living. I can still become damaged.”

 

Dean started the car. He felt a little awkward for having brought it up. He should’ve let Castiel buckle himself in without hassle. He thought about the amount of CIMSSA’s who were used to take the place of actual people in a variety of situations. Some were purchased for abuse, some were kidnapped and torn apart, beaten and shut down, prostituted and used for illegal activities. Dean immediately felt bad for implying that Castiel shouldn’t have been taking care of himself because he was a computer.

 

“I’m sorry,” Dean said.

 

“Do not apologize,” Castiel said as they pulled out of the driveway. “You _are_ taking me to the library, after all.”

 

\- - -

 

The library was a location that Dean didn’t regularly inhabit. It had been so long since he’d been in the building that he almost immediately turned to the teen section without thinking. Castiel had to advise him against it when a group of young, blonde girls began to giggle and point at him.

 

“Jesus, what am I doing here?” Dean asked himself, rubbing his eyes and following Castiel back to the adult section. “Say, Cas,” Dean said, jogging up beside him. “Can you tell a CIMSSA from a human?”

 

“Yes,” Castiel said.

 

“Oh. Are there any in here?”

 

“Yes,” Castiel responded.

 

“Oh. Who?”

 

Castiel turned into an aisle and Dean followed. “Many of the librarians are. You shouldn’t look surprised. They’re manufactured for this job. They can get twice the work done in the same time period as a human can.”

 

“Mmm,” Dean said. The fear that he’d been fraternizing with them long before Sam purchased one for him became very real. It was totally understandable the amount of paranoia attributed to the robots.

 

Castiel stopped when he found his target. He pushed two books on the shelf aside and grabbed one from between them. Dean stepped closer to him and looked hard over his shoulder at the cover and read Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. He pointed it out, saying, “That’s a classic.”

 

“So I’ve heard,” Castiel said. He turned around and made a soft noise in the back of his throat when he realized how close Dean was to him. They were suddenly chest to chest and Castiel’s book and arm were pressed up in between them. Castiel tried to step back only to bump into the shelf. It trembled and Dean sucked in a breath, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him further away from the shelf and closer to his body.

 

“Your first field trip and you’re knocking over the shelves.” Dean said enthusiastically. “Wow. Okay. Um…”

 

Castiel nodded his head and politely stepped away with the book still held to his chest. “I want to read this,” He said.

 

“I thought that’s why you picked it up.”

 

“I don’t want you to have to wait for me. Would you like me to pick you a book based on your music and movie preferences?”

 

Dean shook his head. He needed to find a book for himself so that he could act like he was reading while he thought about what he’d just done. “No, I think I got it. I’ll meet you back here when I find one.”

 

Castiel didn’t argue or ask questions. He walked with his book cradled to his chest and he found a bean bag pressed into a corner. Dean watched him sit down before he walked off on his own to find a book.

 

The library was virtually empty. It was relaxing to walk through aisles and aisles of bound material. Dean forgot he was supposed to be facing his stupid decisions and rapidly approaching affection for his robot, but he was invested more so in running his fingers along the spines of books. Red books, green books, yellow books, brown books, they all looked so worn down and loved.

 

“Is there anything I can help you find?”

 

Dean jumped and turned to look at who had spoken to him. It was a short Asian librarian and Dean squinted his eyes. He was probably a CIMSSA. “No, I got it. Thanks.”

 

The librarian gave a curt nod. “If you need anything I’ll be within three aisles of you. My name is Kevin Tran.”

 

“Alright Kevin. Thanks.”

 

Kevin left and Dean returned to perusing the books. Five minutes into his search, his phone began to ring from the pocket of his leather jacket and he quickly pulled it out to keep from further disrupting the quiet of the library.

 

“What!” He hissed into the phone.

 

 _“What do you mean ‘what’?”_ Lisa said sternly through the receiver. _“I haven’t talked to you in weeks and I don’t even get a hello?”_

 

“I can’t really talk to you right now. I’m in the library.”

 

Lisa laughed over the line. _“Right. Dean Winchester in a library. I doubt it. I finally call you like you’re always asking me to and you suddenly “can’t talk” because you’re “in the library”. How about some honesty? Who’re you sleeping with that you don’t wanna wake up? I bet you’re camped out in the bathroom right now with your hand over the speaker.”_

 

The bathroom part wasn’t true, but Dean certainly had half of the phone covered with his hand. He half considered hanging up and paying the consequence. “Look.” Dean said hotly. “I can’t. talk. right now. I’ll call you back.”

 

 _“Don’t.”_ Lisa spat before the line went dead.

 

Dean’s neck went stiff with his effort to keep from throwing the phone. He never should’ve gotten in deep with a girl like Lisa. He never should’ve offered to take care of her or her issues. The bitch was three pills short of a pharmacy. Dean shoved his phone back in his pocket and leaned against the bookshelf he had just been salivating over before tipping his head against it.

 

For ten minutes Dean thought about his stupid mistakes. He thought about Ben, again, and he wondered how that little boy was getting on with a pimp for a dad and a prostitute for a mother.

 

Eventually Dean cleared his head with a swipe of his hand over his face. He pulled a book at random off of the shelf and headed back to where he knew Castiel would be sitting.

 

Castiel was half spread out on the floor, half spread out on the beanbag. Dean almost dropped his book. To a passerby, nobody would have suspected CIMSSA with the image Castiel was painting, and even though Dean knew better the feeling in his gut didn’t subside. Castiel was invested in material he probably knew all of the sparknotes to and It was endearing.

 

Dean shook his head and went to take a seat. He didn’t say anything, only half lay down and half flop off of an empty bean bag just like Castiel had done. Then he flipped open _The Time Machine_ and started to read.

 

\- - -

 

The truth was that Dean had to take care of this Lisa situation and this slowly surfacing Castiel situation. His sexual frustration and overall short fuse with life in general was making him rash and completely, mentally unstable.

 

Dean and Castiel stayed at the library until it closed at which point Dean checked out some books for Castiel and took him home. He rolled into the driveway and handed Castiel the umbrella that he grabbed from the backseat.

 

“Stay dry,” He ordered. “And don’t wait up for me. Seriously. I might be coming back with someone and I don’t want you popping in and checking if everythings goin’ alright.”

 

Castiel looked over at Dean for a second before refusing the umbrella. “I don’t need it. Be safe and stay dry.” Then he grabbed his books and slipped them under his coat. He opened the door and climbed out.

 

“Wait, Cas!”

 

Castiel didn’t hear Dean, or he went to the door without responding. Either way, it was for the best because Dean didn’t really have anything to say. The pity he was feeling towards the robot was a manifestation of his sexual dry spell and he had every intention to solve that problem before the night ended.

 

Dean drove around for what felt like hours. He didn’t do prostitutes, but he didn’t want to go to Benny’s and spend the effort and time of finding someone to buy drinks for. Eventually, he pulled over and pulled out his phone for his old list of contacts. They were the girls he gave up when he met Lisa. The girls (save a few) whose numbers Lisa tried to delete from his phone.

 

He scrolled down until he found a suitable number and then he hit ‘call’ and put the phone to his ear.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hey, Abby.”

 

 _“Deeann Winchesteerrr.”_ The girl purred. _“Haven’t heard from you in a while. How’s bats?”_

 

“Gone. She took the kid.”

 

 _“Bummer.”_ The girl responded. _“I bet I know why you're calling. Listen, you can come pick me up. My sister’s in town so we can’t stay here, but it’s the same house it’s always been. I’m just gonna assume you’re calling ‘cause you’re balls are so blue they’re a givin’ you a new crayon and a name for it.”_

 

Dean scoffed. “You aint kiddin’. And yeah, that is why I’m calling.”

 

The girl laughed and hung up and Dean did the same. He sat in the car for a few minutes to listen to the sound of the rain brushing over the outside of his car. The wind was picking up and the umbrella was sitting in the passenger said where he’d dropped it after Cas had climbed out.

 

He had to go to work later. Who knew what time it was and what time he’d get there. Crowley was gonna be pissed and hopefully Meg could stave off the inevitable thoughts he’d be having about firing Dean. She might also get started on the pile of paperwork Crowley would almost certainly be dropping off at Dean’s desk that night.

 

When Dean finally pulled up in Abby’s driveway, she ran out shielding herself from the rain with her arm. He opened the door from inside of the car and she slipped in.

 

“Dean,” She said, leaning over and kissing him on the temple.

 

“Abby.” He said.

 

“Let’s get out of here. I’m wired.”

 

Dean agreed. The two drove to his apartment and caught up on the way. They discussed Abby’s recent descent into madness by cause of volunteering at an animal shelter, and then they discussed food. By the time they reached the apartment, they were drunk off of information and toting two full bags of Five Guy’s burgers and Fries in with them. Dean left the umbrella in the car and snorted when he couldn’t remember how his keys were supposed to work. His hair was soaking through and his leather jacket was only half-warding off the rain.

 

The two stumbled into the apartment and laughed to themselves as they began to take off their wet clothes.

 

“These burgers,” Abby said as she stumbled over herself. She raised the bag. “are our ‘job well done’ post coital snacks.”

 

Dean laughed and kicked off his own boots. “Son of a bitch. I’ve been waitin’ on these all night.”

 

“Let’s fuckin’ pray what we’re about to do is more satisfying than these burgers. If not we can stop and reprioritize.”

 

Dean had no choice but to laugh again at how ridiculous they sounded. He was about to get laid, he was catching up with an old friend, he was feeling good. He completely bypassed the living room and Abby followed after him with her bag of burgers.

 

As soon as the bedroom door was closed behind them, Dean got to work. He stripped off what remained of the clothes on the upper half of his body. Abby’s bag of burgers dropped to the floor and she stepped around it, pressing herself right up against Dean’s body as he undressed.

 

Like animals, they kissed on each other, growling and nipping. Abby pulled up her top and tossed it over her head, Dean reached down between them to undo her Jeans and nudge them down. They caught on her thighs and when she tried to help and get them further down her legs, she tripped. Dean fell with her and they landed half on the bed and half on the floor.

 

“Your choice,” Dean asked.

 

“I always liked a little rug burn,” She admitted.

 

The two fell the rest of the way and from the ground, Abby wiggled out of her jeans while Dean began to unbuckle his own. “I actually can’t wait for you to fuck me.” She whispered and Dean kicked the jeans from his legs. “Screw the burgers,”

 

“We say that now.” Dean grumbled, rolling over until Abby was underneath him enough that he could kiss on her neck and rub down her chest.

 

“I just wanna say….” She groaned as Dean pushed her bra up. “That, first of all, _that_ comes off. And second, my real name isn’t Abby.”

 

Dean went on unconcerned. He leaned down until until his nose was running over the bump of her nipple. “Mmhmm.” He mumbled.

 

“Seriously. My na-ahhh, oh shit, wait, I gotta tell someone this.”

 

Dean ran his hands between them and felt down past their stomachs. He pushed his fingers under the band of her lace underwear at the same time as he ran his tongue from her breast to the underside of her neck. “Shoot.”

 

“Okay, you ready?”

 

Dean slipped his fingers between her legs and she spread them further to accommodate him. Dean began to suck on her skin just as she said, “Abaddon” and the reaction was immediate.

 

Dean hadn’t meant to laugh like he did. In fact, that was something he rarely did when sticking his fingers into someone’s body, but the fact that she had to tell someone, that _this_ of all things had been weighing on her mind this entire time, was so damn funny that Dean forgot he was fingering her. He broke down in tears against her neck and his body shook as his brain put the name on repeat.

 

Abby went between laughter and small, pleased noises at Dean’s continued movements.

 

“Jesus Christ,” Dean said.

 

“Yeah. I’ve never told anyone that, though the nurse did ask once.” She sighed. “Well, carry on.”

 

Dean did carry on, to the point that Abby began to arch her back and throw her arms over her face. She bit at the skin of her forearm, of Dean’s shoulder, and then she said, “Rip the fucking underwear,” because she didn’t want him to stop and for the amount of time they’d been apart, she needed more then his fingers.

 

Dean’s mind was gone long before he took off his own boxers. He almost missed the creaking noise that anyone else might have easily mistaken for a crack in the foundation. He tried hard not to think about it, and when he removed his fingers, pulled Abby’s legs tight around his waist and lined himself up, he didn’t pause to think that for once maybe, just maybe, Castiel hadn’t done what he’d told him to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure about how to space the text on this website. I automatically double space between paragraphs because it makes it easier to read, but it looks a little too spaced apart when I actually look it over after it's published. I might change it if it looks better single spaced?


	4. Sweater Weather

The next morning was both good and bad.

 

Good because there was a burger and a gorgeous girl waiting on the floor beside him. Bad because he’d missed work and his phone was MIA.

 

“Shit,” He said, rolling her off of him and looking around the room for pants or shorts or something to cover himself up in. Abby mumbled something in her sleep and reached out, fingers fiddling with the old burger bag as she drifted back to sleep.

 

Dean rubbed his head and thought ‘fuck it’, jumping up and throwing open his bedroom door. That’s when he remembered he owned a CIMSSA and that he should probably be a little bit decent, robot or not. He went back into his room, grabbed his pair of boxers, and went downstairs where he found a bowl of cereal and a glass of Orange juice waiting for him at the kitchen table.

 

He bypassed the breakfast and headed for the living room where he found Castiel sitting on the floor finishing the Little Mermaid.

 

“What are you doing?” Dean asked, despite it being completely obvious.

 

Castiel turned to look at him. “I’m watching a movie.”

 

“Yeah.” Dean didn’t know what else to say. ‘Why aren’t you bothering me? Why did you just leave my breakfast in the kitchen and not stay in there with it? Was that you creaking around outside of my bedroom last night? I didn’t tell you you could watch a movie and yet here you are watching a movie, you’re a horrible man-servant’.

 

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

 

Oh, not this again. “No. Uh… I have a guest over and there’s only one breakfast plate.”

 

Castiel turned back to the television and turned it off. He stood up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I’m unaware of what I should make for her.”

 

“Her?”

 

Castiel blanched. “Is it not a her? I just assumed…” He said, shaking his head.

 

“It is, it is. I’m just messin’ with you. I actually think we got breakfast taken care of. I wanted to let you know that I’m not eating today.” That’s not at all what Dean had wanted to tell him, but it would have to work. “Uhm, I’m going back upstairs. If you could stay down here that would be lovely.”

 

“I have a message for you.” Castiel said. “It’s from Crowley. Your phone fell out of your pocket last night and I heard it ringing this morning.”

 

That was probably another lie. It was raining too hard for the phone to have survived. Nevertheless, Castiel produced the phone from the back pocket of a barely worn pair of Jeans. He handed it to Dean. “You fixed it, didn’t you?” Dean asked.

 

Castiel tried his hardest not to respond, but eventually he said, “yes”.

 

“How’d you know it was out there?”

 

“I didn’t.” Castiel said. After a tense silence, Castiel made a pained expression and blurted, “I saw you come in without your umbrella. I went to retrieve so that you’d have it this morning and right outside of your car door I found your cellphone. I fixed it last night while you had your company over.”

 

Dean nodded his head and gave the phone a once over. “Yeah.” He said, thoroughly embarrassed. “Okay.”

 

Castiel was just a robot. Dean shouldn’t have been feeling like that asshole that sexes his girlfriend while his best friend is beside them, under the covers and feigning sleep. It didn’t matter. Castiel was making it hard to feel like he was still a good person. Dean huffed and turned around, heading back to his bedroom.

 

Abby was still asleep. She had one leg up on the mattress while the rest of her body remained on the floor, unclothed and marked up. Dean went over and picked her up, laying her on the bed and rolling her up in the blanket like a burrito.

 

“Thank,” she mumbled. “Thank.”

 

Dean snickered and smoothed her hair back off her forehead. Then he pulled up Sam’s name in his cellphone and took it to the bathroom.

 

Sam picked up after the third ring.

 

_“Dean! Nice for you to be calling me for a change. What’s up?”_

 

Dean thought about how to start the sentence, but when enough time dragged on for the conversation to turn awkward, he said, “I just had sex and missed work.”

 

 _“Great!”_ Sam said. _“Hopefully Crowley sees how necessary you are from your day off and he won’t fire you?”_

 

“Yeah, right.” Dean said. He sat down on the toilet. “I dropped my phone outside when me and Abby were running in and Cas found it and fixed it.”

 

 _“Well that’s great! He’s a functioning man-robot.”_ Sam said.

 

“I told him not to wait up because I had company, but I think last night he came upstairs anyway. Listen, man, I don’t really need him pokin’ his nose in my extra-curriculars. It’s really… weird.”

 

Sam seemed to consider this. _“I guess that is a little weird. But you told me that Castiel was a weird robot. If it bugs you that he didn’t listen, why not reset him? Maybe it’s something with the programming.”_

 

“I’m not gonna reset him because he figured out he’s got options,” Dean muttered.

 

 _“Options you didn’t give him, which is outside of his job as a CIMSSA.”_ Sam reminded him. _“His entire programming is built on nothing but you. He does what you say, what you like, what you want him to do because that’s what he was created for. Anything outside of that is defective and it’s no good. If he’s starting to do things that you didn’t tell him to do, he needs to be reset.”_

 

“Uh, wait. Cool it, Sammy. That seems a little…. rough.” Dean said. “They made him so he’d be more human, right?”

 

_“More human-like, yeah, but with the same fundamental goal: to do what you say and want.”_

 

Dean shook his head. “Well, Sam, I gotta tell ya - I’m not gonna be the one to strip anything of it’s newfound freedom.”

 

_“That’s your responsibility! They’re not made to be free. They’re made to be owned and controlled.”_

 

“Well, maybe Castiel’s different. I don’t care if he’s defective. He does what I want for the most part and he’s finally figured out what to do with a thing called “free time”. He fucking watches movies, Sam.”

 

 _“And you’re concerned because he stands outside of your room while you have sex,”_ Sam reiterated. _“It’s fine when he’s doing something for himself, but what happens when that ‘something for himself’ involves you, and you tell him to stop or you don’t like what he’s doing and he takes it upon himself to ignore you, or to do it anyway. He’s a robot, Dean! He can’t be hurt, he can’t be guilt-tripped. He can be useful, but he can be dangerous. He looks like he’s made of blood but all that’s going on in there is coding and wiring.”_

 

“He can learn.” Dean said. “So he’s just coding and wiring. What do you have going on in your brain right now?”

 

_“Dean, don’t argue with me on this. I’ll come over there and take it back myself. Maybe we’ve both got coding and wiring, but I was born a blank slate. He was born with a purpose and a set of instructions. Reset him.”_

 

Sam hung up and this time Dean threw the cellphone into the tub. Abby knocked on the door and yelled through the wood, “can I come in?”

 

“How much did you hear?”

 

“All of it.” She said. “This apartment is too small to keep anything hush-hush.”

 

“Whatever.”

 

Abby opened the door and slipped into the bathroom, closing it behind her. She looked around for somewhere to sit and eventually chose the sink counter.

 

“Of all the places,” Dean said, gesturing to the side of the bathtub.

 

“I didn’t want us knocking knees,” she said. She rubbed her eyes. “So you got a robot watching our freaky time.”

 

“I don’t have him doing anything, so he’s taking it upon himself.”

 

“Neat.” Abby said. She nodded her head slowly. “You know, my dad used to own one of those. She was an earlier generation. Much more fucked up.”

 

“Mmm,” Dean said.

 

“We had her for years before she went defective. She killed our dog while I was in the kitchen watching. Part of why I grew up to be such a handful. The stupid thing is, she could have been a human, nobody knew the difference. She acted like a human and up until the day that stupid dog growled at me, she was a good replacement for a mother. I guess I got in too deep. I forgot she could be shut down, that she could have an… issue with the coding.”

 

Dean looked over at Abby and shook his head. “Yeah. This whole situation is fucked up.”

 

“Then I thought,” Abby continued quickly, as if she hadn’t stopped. “humans always have problems with their coding and we don’t ever shut them down.”

 

“We do sometimes.” Dean cut in. “Capital punishment.”

 

“Yeah, I guess.” Abby said, “but these robots have never killed anyone, and the only time Jill hurt anything was that dog, and that dog was growling and running at me and looking something awful.” Looking down at her fingers, Abby admitted, “I miss her, you know? Human or not - she was alive to me.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Dean said honestly. “I don’t want to shut him down. I don’t want the responsibility of making that decision. He hasn’t done anything but watch movies and get… a little curious.”

 

Abby sniffed and wiped her nose. Dean hadn’t even noticed she was crying. He put his hand on her knee and rubbed what he hoped were calming circles onto her leg. She pushed her hair back off of her face and said, “Can I meet him?”

 

“Yeah. He’s downstairs.”

 

Abby and Dean went downstairs hand in hand. When they got to the living room, music was wafting from the Walkman propped up in the corner.

 

“Cas.” Dean said.

 

“I’ve installed a radio, Dean.” Castiel said. “The walkman has been upgraded again.” He turned away from the television and his eyes landed on Abby. “Good afternoon.”

 

Abby let go of Dean’s hand and went over to the Walkman. She sat down in front of it. “Sit with me,” She said, tugging on Castiel’s arm. He did as she said, but turned to Dean with a little bit of fear in his eyes. Dean laughed.

 

Castiel didn’t move after he sat down, but Abby tipped until she was on her side and her head was in Castiel’s lap. “Hey, I love this song.” She said as a new one booted up. Dean hesitated before deciding that it was safer to just sit on the couch and let Abby play.

 

“ _All I am is a man, I want the world in my hands. I hate the beach but I stand in California with my toes in the sand_ ,” Abby sang softly. She took Castiel’s hands and played with them and Castiel watched her curiously. Eventually the curiosity turned to amusement. “ _‘cause it’s too cold for you here and now, so let me hold both your hands in the holes of my sweater_. Man, I love this song. Do you like this song?”

 

Castiel considered the question before saying, “I do.”

 

Dean began to panic. It was probably at this moment that he realized his attraction, slowly getting heavier, wasn’t going away. Not with sex, not with burgers, not with extra work. He cleared his throat and Abby looked over at him with the widest smile on her face. Unsettled, Dean stood up and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

 

Nobody followed him and Dean made as little noise as possible while trying to fix himself a cup of ice water. Castiel was a robot that happened to be attractive. That wasn’t a hard pill to swallow. It was the things he was learning to do - the small mannerisms and habits that Dean had been picking up on since the day he got him. The bowing, the fiddling, then the lying, then the reading and watching and fixing in his freetime. Everything was starting to pack on and Dean was half way to hyperventilating by the time he realized that, in picking the features for Castiel’s coding, Sam accidentally created Dean’s ideal partner.

 

Everything Castiel was doing managed to be everything Dean had always been looking for in an actual person. Someone honest enough but carefree, open minded but imperfect and willing to lie. Curious, intelligent, it was all there.

 

Dean took a moment to collect himself externally. He allowed the storm to continue on internally because there wasn’t anything else he could do. By the time he returned to the living room, Abby had fallen back asleep and Castiel was looking down at her face.

 

“She is beautiful, Dean.” Castiel said quietly.

 

“Yeah. I’ve known her since high school. I had a crush on her that never went anywhere.”

 

“It went somewhere.” Castiel said. “She’s here.”

 

“No - I mean, we never dated. Only had sex and that was just because we were too lazy to find other people to do it with. Now we just talk about stupid things and eat burgers.”

 

“That’s what friends do.” Castiel said. “You’re lucky to have found each other.”

 

Dean took his place back on the couch and watched Castiel as he continually looked her over. His eyes ran the length of her face several times before he reached out and pushed a stray piece of hair from her face. Dean wasn’t jealous, but Castiel was being incredibly careful and Dean would have been lying if he said he made a mistake in not going over there first.

 

The radio continued to play.

 

“What do you look for in a woman, Dean?” Castiel asked. “If not this girl?”

 

“Clearly I like ‘em crazy.” Dean said, sipping on his water. “Usually dark hair, lean body, dark eyes. I don’t discriminate, that’s just usually how I find ‘em.”

 

“Personality wise.” Castiel clarified.

 

Dean stopped himself for a minute. He had to be vague. “Independant.”

 

“Independant?”

 

“Yeah. She has to know what she wants outside of me and what I want. I don’t want anyone whose dependant on me because I can’t be responsible for anyone else’s life if I fuck up.”

 

Castiel tucked hair behind Abby’s ear.

 

“Is there anything I can do for you, Dean?”

 

Dean almost dropped his cup. “What do you mean?”

 

“I mean it’s my job to do things for you and I’ve been sitting here with a woman instead of helping you around the apartment. I’m confirming that I’m not dodging any responsibilities.”

 

“Oh.” Dean said. “I thought I asked you to paint the apartment yesterday.”

 

Castiel laughed and almost immediately stopped himself. He turned to look at Dean with the same panic that Dean had felt upon entering the kitchen, and Dean understood it entirely. He shook his head ‘no’ and just went back to sipping his water. They could definitely act like it hadn’t happened because, at this point, Dean couldn’t stomach the thought of hitting the reset button.

 

\- - -

 

May came and went with Dean begging for his job back, Abby moving to another neighborhood, and Sam offering to take Dean and Castiel out for dinner for the ten millionth time. Castiel began to schedule appointments for Sam and Dean so that they wouldn’t miss each other too much, and Dean made Castiel promise he wouldn’t tell Sam anything outside of what he asked.

 

When the rain let up and the sun started to come out, Dean became more invested in time management. He loved the beach and had to make time to go.

 

“Okay, so! Goal for June. I’m gonna… cut back on my hours at work.” Dean said to Castiel one morning. “So that I can go to the beach.”

 

Castiel nodded. “That sounds like a good idea.”

 

“Do you wanna go?”

 

Castiel buttered Dean a slice of toast and said, “I would love to go.”

 

“What’s the weather looking like for our first week?” Dean asked. He ate his toast and wondered why he’d only asked for one piece. As if reading his mind, another piece popped out of the toaster and Dean could see Castiel smiling as he buttered it.

 

“Very nice,” Castiel answered, handing it to Dean. “I don’t think it’s warm enough to strip down and go swimming, but it’s certainly nice enough for a walk.”

 

“We should get a dog.” Dean said suddenly. “Er… I should get a dog.”

 

“A dog that you’ll ask me to help you take care of.” Castiel said softly. “So, yes, we should get a dog.”

 

Dean couldn’t help smiling and he certainly didn’t put in any effort to hide it. He clapped his hands and said, “to the pet store and then to the beach.”

 

Dean ate his second piece of toast quickly and then jumped up to get dressed. Castiel was waiting for him at the door, ready to go by the time he got there. With a little help, Dean threw on his leather jacket and boots, and then they went out to the car together.

 

The animal shelter was full and Dean was a little morose that he couldn’t take them all. He’d never been a big fan of dogs, per se, but he had no choice but to agree that they were loyal and loving companions. Not that he needed that, but Castiel was home alone a lot of the time and probably needed the company.

 

Dean and Castiel had barely made it through the door when Dean heard, “Finn,” whispered beside him. He turned to look at Castiel who was making a beeline for a small cage pressed right up against the window. “Finn!”

 

“Whoa, wait! Who’s Finn?” Dean asked, running to keep up.

 

“I took the liberty of looking through the available dogs on the website. This is the only one I’ve recognized so far. This is Finn and he’s a Spoodle.” Castiel said. He stuck his fingers through the side of the cage.

 

“What the hell is a spoodle?” Dean asked himself.

 

“It’s a cross breed. A Cocker Spaniel and a Poodle. Finn here is the one who gets the most attention, but nobody has claimed him yet,” One of the workers answered, approaching Dean and Castiel with a clipboard and a piece of paper in her hand.

 

“Why?” Dean asked.

 

“The price, I’d imagine,” Castiel said, pulling up the tag.

 

“Exactly. Dogs like Finn are in high demand, of course. He’s beautiful, but people would prefer to get a dog like this without the technicalities of tags and shots and everything we provide at a little extra charge.”

 

Dean bent down beside Castiel and stuck his fingers in the cage. The dog sniffed them and then licked them, crouching down a little and wagging his tail.

 

“Have you been in here before?” The woman asked. “Your friend knew him by name, so I’m assuming you’ve also had your eyes on him.”

 

Dean stuttered, “Uh, y-yeah, yeah. We’ve been here before.”

 

Castiel looked over at Dean discreetly and cleared his throat as Dean always did when nervously trying to patch together a story. “I came in last week and noticed that someone had claimed him, but when I rechecked the site and saw he was still here, I thought I’d come in and try my luck again.”

 

So basically, this is the dog they were taking home.

 

Dean cringed and grabbed the price tag. He held his chest and dropped the tag, holding onto the cage for support.

 

“Are you alright?” The worker asked. Castiel leaned out to steady Dean as well and waved her off politely, smiling.

 

“He skipped breakfast.” Castiel said. He turned to Dean. “Are you alright? Is this alright?”

 

Dean groaned but said, “Yeah, yeah. We came for a dog and this is the dog you want.”

 

The worker beamed and handed Dean the clipboard. Dean hesitated but grabbed it out of her hand. Castiel went back to entertaining the dog while Dean started on the paperwork and within twenty minutes, the dog had tags, a leash and a certificate of adoption.

 

“Would you like me to take the dog?” Castiel asked.

 

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” Dean said. “Let me just grab a towel out of the back. I don’t want the dog messin’ up my seats while we drive.”

 

Spur of the moment decisions were bad. Dean should have thought this through more, but the dog was happy and Castiel seemed happy. Dean laid down a blanket in the back seat and the dog jumped in after him, licking and flopping all over the place. Castiel smiled and got into the passengers seat and Dean climbed out of the back and into the front. He started the car up and the radio booted to life.

 

As promised, Dean drove them to the beach. The sun wasn’t really out. What was left of the warm day was hidden behind clouds, but the jacket that Dean was wearing kept of the chill. Castiel jumped the gun and grabbed the leash for Dean, saying, “Allow me to help you.” as if Dean didn’t know how excited he was to walk the dog.

 

“You’ve probably watched documentaries about dogs or something,” Dean laughed. “Go ahead.”

 

They parked a mile from the beach and took the trail. Dean walked a step behind Castiel and the dog, watching it sniff everything. The color was coming back into the world and any trees were getting their leaves back, the sand was nice and dry kicked up on the cement pathway. Overall, gorgeous day for a dog walk.

 

“You shouldn’t walk so far behind.” Castiel called. “Come on.”  He waved his hand and Dean sped up, lightly jogging until they were side by side.

 

The dog ran in the area between Dean and Castiel. They met several other dogs on the way to the beach, all of whom seemed excited to see one another. Castiel stopped every time.

 

They eventually made it to the beach and Castiel let the dog off of the leash because he insisted it would come back. It was friendly and it played in the water, in the sand, and wove itself around the lower half of Dean’s and Castiel’s legs. Dean sat down and Castiel copied, scooting in closer and handing Dean the leash.

 

“If you call him, he’ll come back.” Castiel said. “I looked up his last owner.”

 

“So you’ve had your eye on this dog for a while.” Dean said.

 

“Not necessarily a while, though it would seem that way at the rate I obtained information about him. I thought, for a man who doesn’t like dogs, this would be the perfect match for you.”

 

Dean hummed and fiddled with the leash, his eyes trained on the dog. “I got him for you, Cas.” Dean said. “To keep you company when I’m away.”

 

Castiel pulled his legs up to his chest and turned to look at Dean. “I know.” He said. “You don’t like dogs, really.”

 

Dean looked at Castiel and smiled. He pushed a stray piece of hair off of his own forehead and ran his fingers the length of it. The leash snagged on one of the pieces and Castiel reached up to untangle it. “Thanks,” Dean said. Castiel nodded and his hand remained poised at the edge of Dean’s hair, fingers holding the leash. Castiel didn’t look away even when Dean did, and Dean had to clear his throat and physically turn Castiel’s face to get him to stop staring.

 

“I’m sorry.” Castiel said. “Finn!”

 

As promised, the dog came running. He jumped over Dean’s legs and hopped up on Castiel’s knees, licking his face. Castiel closed his eyes and shied away from the contact, eventually falling backwards.

 

Finn jumped over him and Dean laughed, tossing the leash aside and jumping up. “Finn!” He tried. The dog’s attention shifted and Dean ran as the dog chased after him. With the sun going down and Dean’s half of the world heating up, he began to play tag with his and Castiel’s new dog.

 

\- - -

 

“I was thinking,” Dean said as they drove home. “After I get off work, we could go to the Roadhouse. It’s a little late, but Benny still wants to meet you.”

 

Castiel nodded. “Benny. To him I’m Jimmy.”

 

“Yeah,” Dean said, fingers tapping on the wheel. “Crowley’s leaving early tonight so I’m leavin’ early tonight.”  

 

“I would love to accompany you tonight,” Castiel said. “After I give Finn a bath.”

 

Dean grimaced and quickly looked over his shoulder. Finn was covered, head to paw, in crusty, drying sand and mud. “Yeah. Well, you can do that while I go to work.”

 

Dean ran by the store on the way home to grab dog food and a few toys. Then the three of them returned home, Dean to get ready for work, Castiel and Finn to prepare themselves for the night ahead of them.

 

Since Meg still hadn’t forgiven Dean for his skipped day of work, he dressed quickly to get there a little early. He showered, put on some stupid half-suit that he already couldn’t wait to take off, and grabbed his keys. Finn ran into the room several times waiting for his turn in the bathroom and then refused to cooperate when Castiel told him it was time to bathe.

 

Dean found himself laughing all the way to work.

 

\- - -

 

Castiel had cooked, cleaned and gotten Finn to settle down by the time Dean returned. He stepped into an apartment that smelled like Lavender and he was about to ask how Castiel knew what scent to put when the reminder of Castiel’s existence hit him.

 

“Smells good in here.” Dean said.

 

“Thank you,” Castiel called from the living room. “I would come and meet you at the door but I’m afraid the dog has taken my lap and won’t..” Dean turned the corner and entered the living room, looking directly over at the couch. “Hi.” Castiel finished lamely.

 

“Hi, Cas.” He said. “Yeah, looks like the dog aint movin’.”

 

“I would still like to go out with you.” Castiel said.

 

“Yeah, well, uh… just get the dog on the other end of the couch and we can hit the road.”

 

Castiel cautiously woke the dog. He ran his finger through the dogs hair and rubbed his nose before shaking him a little. Finn cracked his eyes open and his tail started to waggle. “Good morning, Finn.” Castiel said. “I have to go somewhere. I need you to move.”

Finn bounced up and chinbutted Castiel.

 

“Yes, yes, I know you’re excited but I have an appointment.”

 

Finn crawled off of the couch and ran into the kitchen, supposedly to look for food. Dean watched him go before reaching out to help Castiel off of the couch. Castiel looked at his hand. After a minute, he took it and allowed himself to be pulled up. Rather, he allowed Dean the attempt of pulling him up.

 

“Holy shi-” Dean said, falling onto Castiel’s sitting body. “You’re heavier than I thought.”

 

Castiel laughed. “I’m made of many heavy objects.” He said. He moved Dean away and stood up by himself. Dean straightened out his dress shirt.

 

“Well, let’s get out of here.”

 

Dean didn’t start getting nervous about introducing “Jimmy” and Benny until he was pulling into one of the parking spots at the roadhouse. Even after he’d turned off the car, he stayed glued to his seat and considered going back, or at least asking Castiel to sit in the car. But then Castiel asked, “Is something wrong?” like he had no idea half of the bar didn’t like how he was made, and Dean couldn’t bring himself to do it.

 

“Nah,” He said. “Just… remember, you’re Jimmy for now.”

 

Castiel tapped his head. “I’ve got a pretty good system. I think I can handle it.”

 

Dean agreed. He opened his door and locked his car up before meeting Castiel at the door of the roadhouse and entering together.

 

There was a larger crowd this time around and Dean was grateful. More places to hide if shit started to hit the fan. He approached the bar with Castiel in tow and when Benny finished serving his customer, he turned to Dean with a smile on his face. “My man.” He said.

 

Dean shot his hand out and Benny fist bumped it. “Yeah, I said I’d bring him by.”

 

“House not taken care of yet?”

 

“No,” Castiel said. “Not yet. Soon.”

 

“Listen, I’m almost off. How about we talk when I’m done serving this round. Jo’s around back, I’ll send her out.”

 

Dean forgot his lies for a moment and said, “What? I finally caught her? No way.”

 

Finding a table was a little difficult, but Dean managed to squeeze into a booth hidden away. The lights were low and it was slightly quieter than the rest of the bar.

 

“Should I sit next to you?” Castiel asked.

 

“Yeah, please.” Dean asked.

 

Castiel slid in beside Dean and the two looked at each other nervously.

 

“Dean. WINCHESTER.”

 

Dean dragged his eyes away from Castiel to see Jo bounding over to them. She leaned right across the table, body rudely covering Castiel’s entire face as she gave Dean a kiss on the cheek. She straightened herself up and looked down at Castiel, hand extended.

 

“I’m Jo.” She said. “I’m sure Dean’s told you all about me.”

 

“Yes.” Castiel said. “I’m Jimmy.”

 

“Jimmy?” Jo asked. She looked up at Dean and raised her eyebrow, letting out a nervous laugh. “Yeah, alright. Nice to meet you, Jimmy.”

 

Dean tried hard not to level in on the confusion regarding Jo’s greeting. She didn’t believe Castiel or she’d heard something different from someone else. Dean tried to think of how often Sam and Jo talked, or if they even talked at all when he wasn’t a mediator. Either way, the horror that Dean had only been in the bar less than ten minutes and was already being busted wasn’t soothing. In fact, he was ready to hit the road and apologize to Benny later.

 

That’s when Jo slipped into her seat across the table from Dean and struck up a conversation. She referred to Castiel as Jimmy, even after Benny joined the table.

 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, man.” Benny said.

 

Talk carried on like Dean wasn’t having a heart attack at the table. He searched each part of the conversation for any indication that Benny didn’t believe Castiel, or that Jo would ask the question he knew she was thinking in her head. She’d probably talked to Sam and if that were the case, she definitely knew that Castiel was CIMSSA.

 

Either way, Dean made it his personal goal to make it so that Benny wouldn’t find out about Castiel. Soon, he could pretend that Castiel had returned home, maybe get the stupid robot a house. Considering how Castiel was learning to handle his free time, it wasn’t too far fetched an idea.

 

Jo kept her ears in Benny and Castiel’s conversation but her eyes on Dean.

 

“So what do you drink, Jimmy?” Benny asked.

 

“I don’t, really.” Castiel answered.

 

Dean sucked in a breath before he could stop himself. When all eyes on the table turned to him, he stuttered, “Uh, I fo-forgot to call Sam.” He excused himself and Castiel stood up to let him out. For a second it looked like Castiel would follow him but then Jo cleared her throat, apologized and said she forgot to check in with her mother about stock and Benny did the same thing.

 

The last thing Dean wanted was Benny and Castiel by themselves, but at this point he’d rather be out of dodge when Benny found out that Castiel wasn’t human.

 

Dean took himself outside and leaned against the wall. The weather had definitely improved.

 

“It certainly looks like you’re calling Sam.” Dean heard Jo say as she rounded the corner.

 

“What’d you do? Go out the back way?” Dean asked.

 

“I told Benny I was talking to my mom. Couldn’t exactly follow you out here.” Jo answered. She walked up to Dean and gave him a proper hug. “Before you ask, yeah, I talked to Sam.”

 

“So you know?” Dean mumbled into her hair. The girl was so much shorter than he was.

 

“That that’s not Jimmy? Yeah, I know.”

 

Dean sighed and shook his head, letting Jo go and stepping back. “You think Benny knows?”

 

“He has no clue,” Jo said confidently. “He thinks Castiel doesn’t drink alcohol now, sure, but he doesn’t have a clue that the man was manufactured in a plant less than a year ago. Which, if I’m being honest, is pretty fucked up.”

 

“It’s fucked up that I’m not telling him?” Dean asked, already feeling like shit.

 

“Not really. Just that it’s possible for you to be able to get away with it at all.” Jo said. “Well, I mean, I guess it doesn’t matter. If it looks like a human and talks like a human, why not just consider it one, you know?” She shrugged. “We’d better get back in there. The robot’s pretty adaptive and Benny’s running on, like, three hours of sleep so I think you’re in the clear.”

 

Dean winced. “Andrea problems?”

 

“Yeah. I swear, some relationships just aren’t meant for the long road. No wonder people are using robots.”

 

Dean decidedly ignored that comment. He’d been thinking too hard about that lately and today really wasn’t the day to put all of his problems on a plate and deal with them. One at a time and Benny was the priority.

 

As he walked back to the table, Dean’s brain screamed alert and he wanted to leave. He could have left Castiel and the bot would have found his way home, but upon seeing Benny and Castiel laughing together over recently served drinks of water and something dark brown, he relaxed and decided to rejoin them. So Castiel had a much better system then Dean gave him credit for.

 

Dean wondered whether or not that should have concerned him as much as it did.

 


	5. If I Ever Feel Better

“We’re going to the fireworks.” Sam said before he’d even pushed past Dean into the apartment.

 

Dean choked on his words but stepped aside. “What’re you doin’ here?”

 

“Visiting, Dean, because you never do,” Sam said angrily. “I called mom. She said she hasn’t heard from you in weeks, so you should give her a call.”

 

“Er…” Dean trailed off.

 

“Yeah, take a minute to feel like a dick and then… Dean, what’s that noise?” Sam said, head tilted towards the living room where Finn had just woken up and was proceeding to scratch behind his ear. His tags were tingling. “Is that a… dog?” Sam said, just as Finn rounded the corner.

 

Dean covered his face and waited for Sam to get assaulted before he answered, “Yeah, it’s a dog.”

 

Sam looked torn between excitement and disappointment. “So you’re always at work, who the hell is taking care of the dog?”

 

Dean refused to answer. He closed the front door and went into the kitchen. Sam and the dog followed.

 

“Dean!” Sam yelled.

 

“Cas! Cas is taking care of the dog.”

 

Sam’s mouth dropped open and he learned against the chair, one hand on his hip. “Are you kidding me?”

 

“No.” Dean said. He needed a glass of water, stat.

 

“No? No,” Sam said. He gestured furiously between the two of them, “We’re not doing this. We’re not going down this damn path. If you’re not taking care of the dog, get rid of it. This is a living thing, you’re not giving it as a gift to a robot.”

 

“The damn thing doesn’t know the difference,” Dean argued. “So I don’t see what the problem is.”

 

Sam, clearly at a loss for words, opened and closed his mouth several times before petting the dog and turning to go back to the front door, “We’re going to the fireworks on the fourth, so be there.”

 

It wasn’t until Dean heard the front door slam that he threw his own glass onto the floor.

 

Castiel probably stayed away from the kitchen on purpose.

 

\- - -

 

Dean ended up going to the fireworks.

 

He worked up to it after calling his mom who gave him an earful about being a prodigal son but didn’t otherwise bother him. Dean had Castiel put his and Sam’s date on every calendar he owned, and then he called off work.

 

The night of, Dean asked Castiel if he’d like to go.

 

“I’m not sure that’s wise, Dean,” Castiel admitted.

 

“Yeah, well I hear I’m not too smart so… you’re going.”

 

“Is that a command?” Castiel said as he looked down at his feet.

 

“Yeah.” Dean said as he went to get ready.

 

The two drove to the park in silence. Dean had grabbed Finn’s leash and geared him up as an afterthought and the only noise in the car was the sound of his jingling tags as he hopped excitedly from side to side, looking out both windows. When they drove past the beach, the dog went crazy, pawing at the window and whining.

 

“Finn,” Castiel said softly. He undid his seatbelt and turned to the back, scratching the dog behind his ear. “We’re going outside, soon, just not to the beach. I think you’ll like this place, too.”

 

Dean covered his smile up with his hand and made sure to not check the rearview mirror the rest of the way to the park.

 

Jessica met them in the parking lot to walk them back to the spot Sam had designated to their shindig.

 

“Hey, Jess.” Dean said, hugging and kissing her as he walked to the rear passenger to get the dog.  

 

“I wanna see him,” Jessica said. Dean opened the door and the dog leaped out and ran right up to Jessica, who crouched down and eagerly accepted his kisses. “What a gorgeous puppy!” She cooed, rubbing his head and then scratching behind his ear. “Do you mind if I walk him?”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Dean said. He pulled the leash from his pocket and handed it to her. Castiel climbed out of the car as she attached it to his collar.

 

“Castiel, it’s good to see you again!” Jessica said, all smiles. “You two follow me. Mary decided to come so she’ll be happy to see the two of you.”

 

Dean and Castiel walked in stride while Jessica stayed two steps ahead with the excited dog. Occasionally, Castiel looked at Dean as if he had something to say, but it was always dropped and Dean was none the wiser by the time they reached Sam’s makeshift Fourth of July camp.

 

“Oh look, it’s my son.” Mary said happily, getting up from her seat on the ground. “Come here!”

 

Dean went into her arms happily and hugged her for a long time. Sam opened his arms for the dog and Dean knew for a fact that no matter how angry he was about the situation, he already loved the damn thing.

 

“I found them all wandering around way over yonder,” Jessica joked.

 

“I smell burgers,” Dean said.

 

“That’s because I made some and I bought them for you,” Mary admitted. “Sit, sit.”

 

Dean sat down right beside her and took the styrofoam plate when Mary handed it to him. “Sam already ate his,” She said, “and he looked like a little piglet just shoving them in his mouth.”

 

Sam gawked indignantly and reached over to steal a chip from Dean’s plate. “Jess has stopped feeding me.”

 

Mary ignored Sam’s halfhearted complaint and nodded towards Castiel. “And who is this young man?”

 

“Dean’s CIMSSA,” Sam said proudly. “I did good, huh?”

 

“Oh, Sam! You did. He’s gorgeous! Castiel, I’m Dean’s mother, Mary.”

 

Castiel nodded politely and reached out to shake her hand. Mary looked surprised but took it in stride, clearly a little bit impressed. “I’m Castiel but Dean calls me Cas and you’re welcome to, as well, if you’re comfortable with it.”

 

Mary put her hand on her chest. “Well I’d be flattered, _Cas_.” She turned to Dean and smiled with an impressed raise of her eyebrows. Dean blushed and went back to his burger.

 

“Dude’s got a mind of his own,” Dean said.

 

Sam scratched his chin and fixed Dean with an unimpressed look. Mary was completely oblivious, and when she started to drill Castiel with questions, Sam butted in and said, “I need help grabbing the drinks out of the car. Dean?”

 

Dean knew it was a ploy but couldn’t think of an excuse quickly enough to get out of it. Mary rubbed Dean’s shoulder as he stood up, but remained completely invested in her conversation with Castiel.

 

They’d barely made it to the car when Sam released the load.

 

“Dean, I know today is not the day but I’ve gotta say something.”

 

“If It’s the same thing you said about the dog, I don’t wanna hear it.”

 

“It’s not about the dog,” Sam responded hotly, “it’s about _cas_. Do you know what you’re doing right now?”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean,” Dean said sharply.

 

“You know what I mean. Taking him everywhere, introducing him to Jo and Benny? Letting him off the hook when he does stuff you’re not telling him to do or that you didn’t tell him he _could_ do? Dean, this isn’t… this isn’t right! Castiel isn’t made for this sort of thing. He isn’t a human, he isn’t made to do whatever he wants. That’s not how he works. You’ve got to do something about this.”

 

“You want me to reset him.” Dean stated. He took the keys from Sam’s jacket pocket and hit the trunk button on the fob. “I’m not gonna do it, Sam. Why did you get me the stupid thing if you weren’t gonna let me handle it? I got it as a gift, I’m gonna make the decisions.”

 

“Right. I probably shouldn’t have gotten it for you because you’re clearly an emotionally compromised teenage girl who cares more about a robot’s feelings then the amount of damage he could do when off his code. Keep in mind,  he’s not supposed to even have “feelings”, he’s supposed to do what you tell him to do and then charge at night. That’s it, that’s his roster.”

 

“The roster that I changed.” Dean said as he grabbed some drinks.

 

“No,” Sam said, reaching around Dean and also grabbing some drinks. “The roster that he changed.”

 

Sam slammed the trunk closed and started back to their spot by himself. Dean locked the car door and followed after him, trying to keep from being too upset. Clearly, he couldn’t keep his emotions in check. Not that that was his job. He wasn't the robot so he had every right to be pissed about Sam getting so invested in his personal affairs. Dean waited for the fireworks drinking copious amounts of a sugary lemonade drink that Jessica had made.

 

Mary got up to play with Jessica and the dog and Castiel smoothly slipped into her spot.

 

“Dean, are you alright?” He asked quietly. Dean tipped back another glass of lemonade.

 

“Yeah.”

 

Castiel didn’t look like he was buying it. Dean watched him wistfully and took in his range of facial expressions as he tried to figure out how he was going to get Dean to talk. Castiel was becoming so incredibly human-like, or maybe it was that Dean hadn’t been interested in anyone like this for years and was grasping at straws.

 

“I’m very excited to see the fireworks,” Castiel admitted. “I’ve only seen videos.”

 

“They’re nothin’ special.” Dean said, ready to pour himself another glass of Lemonade. Castiel put his hand out to stop him.

 

“Dean, you’re going to make yourself sick.”

 

Dean could already feel his stomach becoming unsettled, but he had nothing else to do. Castiel reached out nervously and removed the cup from his hands, setting it aside and laying his hands into Dean’s hands instead. “If you need something to fiddle with. Abby seemed to enjoy it.”

 

Dean considered it. Castiel’s hands were so smooth, so solid. He had a warmth that was clearly generated for his body, not natural, but the way his fingers twitched as Dean ran his own fingers over them was alluring enough that he altogether forgot himself. What was Castiel really made of? Dean had never asked and he didn't really want to know - but the fireworks were about to start and he was in public, carressing the hands of this robot like whatever substance they used felt better then anything he'd ever run his hands over. There were no markings, no dents other then the ones that humans were expected to have.

 

“They’re about to start!” Jessica yelled, running over with the dog and Mary in tow. If she saw Dean drop Castiel’s hands, she didn’t say anything. And then there was Sam, who Dean had forgotten all about, who’d been sitting on the blanket the entire time just watching them with a somber expression on his face.

 

Dean looked at him, really looked at him, and immediately understood the predicament he was climbing into. He'd understood it earlier but never would have admitted to it. Sam shook his head ‘no’ and wiped his hand over his face in an exhausted expression, before laying down on his back and looking up at the sky, waiting for the fireworks to begin.

 

\- - -

 

Dean’s unfortunate luck and heavy mental load didn’t end with the fireworks.

 

After the car had been packed up and everyone had said their goodbye’s, including Sam who apologized for ruining a perfectly good July night with his recent temper, Dean drove Castiel, Finn and himself home.

  
  


It was halfway to the apartment that Finn, situated in the back seat, began to huff and whine. Dean thought nothing of it, but Castiel sat more stiffly in his seat, neck craning as he looked back a few times. Finn’s huffing turned to heaving and Castiel unbuckled himself and climbed in the backseat. His body made a chirping noise and Finn heaved again.

 

“Oh, my. He’s eaten something bad,” Castiel said. “He needs to go to an animal hospital.”

 

“He’s not gonna throw up on my seat, right?” Dean said, panicking. “Uh, do I need to pull over? Is he gonna be sick?”

 

“He’s having an allergic reaction to something. We have to go to the vet.”

 

“What vet? He doesn’t have a vet!” Dean yelled, watching the rearview.

 

“There’s one two miles from here. It’s an animal emergency room with a copayment of one hundred dollars, but it’s the only one in town that’s twenty four hours and holidays.”

 

What else could Dean have done as a responsible dog owner?

 

“Yeah, yeah. Tell me where to go.”

 

Castiel spat out directions like he was a GPS. Technically, he was a GPS, but that wasn’t the most concerning thing about the drive. The dog was the most important, and when his heaving actually turned to vomiting, Dean almost lost his grip on the steering wheel.

 

“Focus,” Castiel said to him. “We’re almost there. You need to take a right at the end of the street.”

 

Dean did as he was told until he could see the large red sign hanging above a brick building. He pulled in to park and Castiel grabbed the dog, lifting him carefully and climbing out of the car without a problem. Dean wanted to get out and help, but he sat still until he could process that he should atleast be in the waiting room.

 

By the time he got in there, Castiel was taking care of it. He spat out Dean’s information like he’d been born with it and when it came time to copay, he read off the numbers to Dean’s debit card without ever lifting it from Dean's wallet. Finn was taken in back and tagged and Castiel was sent to sit next to Dean.

 

Half an hour passed, then an hour passed, and then the Vet came to confirm a severe allergic reaction, as Castiel had suggested.

 

“He’ll need to stay tonight,” The vet warned. Castiel nodded and took a few forms that Dean should have been responsibly filling out. Dean just licked his dry lips and watched as Castiel filled out line after line, and the vet left them alone.

 

“I’m going to take these up there when I finish, and then we can leave,” Castiel said.

 

“Shouldn’t we, uh… wait… or something.” Dean said nervously.

 

“Finn is probably getting a heavy dose of Benadryl,” Castiel said, “and it’s best to leave him here so that the doctor can keep an eye on his condition. I suspect he ate something at the park he shouldn’t have while playing with your mother and Jessica. The time frame would fit.”

 

Dean rubbed the back of his head and watched Castiel put the pen away. “I didn’t notice anything weird.”

 

Castiel looked sympathetic as he laid his hand against Dean’s cheek. “Dogs are like people. Individual. Finn’s symptoms came on very quickly and it probably had to do with the rate of digestion. At least we got him here, right?”

 

Dean didn’t have the energy to remove Castiel’s hand. He knew how far he’d fallen since the month before and began to recognize his and Castiel’s more commonplace romantic gestures as something that shouldn’t have been happening, but something that felt good regardless.

 

“I’ll take these up and we can leave. I’m sure we’ll be able to come and get him early tomorrow morning.” Castiel walked to the front desk and took his stupid hands with him while Dean jumped the gun and went to the car to wait.

 

Before Dean went to bed that night, Castiel apologized.

 

“What’re you sorry for?” Dean asked. “You saved Finn’s life.”

 

“I’m sorry if I caused any upset in your family today,” Castiel responded.

 

Dean had really gotten fed up with people blaming Castiel for taking advantage of his own possibilities. “Sam bought you and shipped you to me in a box. Anything that happened after that was none of his damn business. If he’d wanted a robot named Castiel that he could boss around, he should have shipped you to himself.”

 

Castiel offered up warm milk as a peace offering, anyway, which Dean respectfully declined.

 

\- - -

 

Dean’s curiosity had always managed to get him in trouble somehow.

 

Age hadn’t changed him. The primal desire to press things, eat things, touch things just to find out what they did, still burned hot in the part of his brain that would be responsible for killing him one day.

 

So Dean sat on the computer after Crowley had gone home and Meg had fallen asleep at her desk, days after the fourth of july incident had been forgotten by everyone but him. He looked between the Google search bar and the stack of papers on his desk and decided that it was the curiosity keeping him from working as an efficient paper pusher. It had to have been the curiosity.

 

The funny thing was, Dean’s conscience sounded a lot like Sam, and that made the whole process more embarrassing. Regardless, Dean swallowed the pill and searched defective CIMSSA before he could change his mind..

 

The results were immediate and much more concerning than Dean had expected.

 

He wasn’t an expert on finding viable websites, so he clicked the first one he saw. Several pop-ups and bogus ads later, Dean found what he was looking for, an online forum full of stories and suggestions. Dean began to read through them.

 

   -- Madamelecumssa - Defective CIMSSA, female, model N5800

 

_Hello! I’m a little nervous even mentioning this because I have a feeling I already know what the responses will be. I guess I just want to feel better about my decision and so I still have to ask. Recently, my CIM’s been acting a little strange. She’s sort of gone… off the deep end as far as electronics go. She does what she wants the majority of the time. I’ve woken up some nights to find her gone altogether, and when I GPS her, she’s at the park or she’s at another person’s house (no, I don’t know the person or the address). It’s a little frightening because she always finds a way in and out of the house without a key and she ensures that the security system is still active. I’ve called customer service and they’ve been telling me to reset her or repackage her and send her back for a replacement. The problem is, she’s overheard one of the conversations and now she spends a lot of her time begging me not to reset her. She says she’s worried? It’s a little concerning. I know that, in theory they don’t think or feel, so she can’t really be scared can she? It’s just too convincing. She’s learned how to cry (I think she’s purchased the package, but she hasn’t done it using any of my cards) and she’s gone and made me feel so horrible for even considering it. I just need some sort of reassurance, I guess?) Any advice or suggestions are much appreciated._

 

Dean shook his head and scrolled down to read the responses.

 

  -- Re: Defective CIMSSA, female, model N5800

 

_bevvynation265: Hi! sounds like youre getting a case of synthetic consciousness. this is known to happen, some sort of faulty thing in the hardware. id take her back, but reset her first? dont worry - she wont know or feel a thing. remember, everything shes saying is coming from an electric board in her body, it doesnt really mean anything. good luck!_

 

_1956rocket: I agree with the post above The longer you go without resetting her, the more conscious she’ll seem to be. She’s mimicking the world around her and she’s looking in her best interest as a piece of artificial intelligence. Don’t worry! All robots can do is imitate this level of consciousness. They don’t think or feel like we do. Nothing to worry about._

 

Dean didn’t feel any better about his situation, but he certainly began to ground himself in the possibility that Castiel wasn’t real and wouldn’t be real, no matter the upgrade or the hardware. He continued to scroll until he found another particularly interesting post.

 

_fixitfeeeelix: I think the most concerning aspect of this whole post is this idea that, as robots, they’re made not to think or to feel or to have free-will, yet clearly they’re exhibiting signs that they have these features. There was once a man who said, “Working in a fully automated mode, they [the computers] cannot exhibit creativity, emotions, or free will. A computer, like a washing machine, is a slave operated by its components." However, clearly these computers are surpassing this notion that they’re not capable of upgrading their own processes. I’ve read so many posts saying “my CIMSSA is creating goals” or “my CIMSSA is asking me if it can do things”. That’s concerning! In my opinion as a previous owner of one of these wonderful gifts, they are becoming aware. They are becoming conscious, and we, as their cruel creators, have a duty to allow them to live the life we gave them to their full potential._

 

“Shit,” Dean mumbled.

 

“What’re you lookin’ up?” Meg grumbled from her desk. “You never get on the computer.”

 

“Er…” Dean said. “My… my leg’s been hurting me this past week. Wanted to know if it was something worth worrying over.”

 

He quickly closed out of his search and shut the computer down. Screw clearing the history. He really didn’t know how to do that anyway, and if anyone asked, he’d say he didn’t use the damn thing. Meg never cooperated. She wouldn’t tell them anything. Dean reached out to the stack of papers and grabbed a few of them, ready to file and not think about Castiel or the things he was getting up to in that computer for a head of his.

 

Three papers in and Dean couldn’t focus. He climbed up out of his seat and pulled out his cellphone.

 

“Hey, I need a minute. I’ll be right back,” Dean said.

 

“Don’t run on me, Winchester,” Meg grumbled, smacking her head back on the desk and closing her eyes again.

 

Dean needed to call someone. Sam wasn’t an option, but maybe asking Castiel was. It might get him some answers he could live with. Then again, if Castiel was becoming conscious, his answer might send Dean off the deep end. Instead, he scrolled through the numbers until he found someone with the experience to give an honest and reasonable opinion.

 

 _“Dean?”_ Abby answered.

 

“Hey,” Dean breathed. “Hey.”

 

_“What’s up?”_

 

“Hey, uh… do you think that maybe…” Dean started. “Maybe Castiel’s becoming… uh… like aware? Or maybe not aware, but…”

 

Abby sighed on the other end and Dean thought for a second she was going to hang up.

 

 _“I’ve always thought those stupid things were more trouble than they’re worth, even with the history I have with them,”_ she admitted. _“Personally, I don’t believe in ‘em like I used to. I’ll tell you what, Dean. Like all of our biggest problems as a species, we’re probably never gonna get an answer to that question. I want you to think of the positives and negatives of resetting a robot that might possibly understand he exists, and then I want you to make a decision for_ you _.”_

 

“Yeah,” Dean sighed.

 

 _“I know Sam’s riding your ass,”_ Abby said. _“Fuck Sam. I mean, oops, I'm sorry. I take that back 'cause that was rude - but the truth is, Sam isn’t the one holding your time or attention. If Castiel makes you feel good, robot or not, keep him around.”_

 

“God, you’re great at making things sound like they’re not a problem,” Dean said. “So just don't think about it?”

 

“ _Don't think about it! It's a waste of time and energy, especially when you know you're not gonna get a better answer then the one I just gave you,_ ” She responded, “ _Don't let anyone tell you what to do. Now get back to whatever important thing you were working on._ ”

 

\- - -

 

The difference between robots and humans, for Dean, was definitely the common sense.

 

Dean would have taken two thousand Castiel’s over one Lisa, moral compass be damned. This became painfully obvious when she came and banged on his door, purse hanging off of her arm and eye pressed right up against the peephole.

 

Dean almost went without letting her in, but then her voice came through the door, muffled. “I can hear you walking around in there, Dean.”

 

He unlocked the door and pulled it open, immediately leaning against the frame to keep her from coming in. Then he saw Ben over her shoulder looking at him with a happy little grin on his face. Dean breathed heavily and exhaled softly to keep himself from losing his mind.

 

“You’re above inviting us in, now?” She asked.

 

Dean looked at Ben again before stepping aside, bottom lip trapped painfully beneath his top row of teeth. She nodded at him as she stepped past.

 

“And who’s this?” She asked as Castiel walked into the hallway.

 

“Hello, I’m -”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean cut him off. He coached Ben into the hallway and closed the door behind him.

 

“I do worry about it. If Ben’s gonna be coming over here, I need to know who you’re keeping for company these days.”

 

“Can I offer you a drink?” Castiel offered.

 

“No.” Lisa said. She puckered her lips and turned back around to Dean. “I talked to Sam.”

 

“Bedroom,” Dean ordered.

 

“As if.” Lisa said.

 

“Fine,” Dean said. He tilted his head in agitation. “Kitchen. Ben, you go into the living room. Cas’ll help you set up whatever you wanna watch.”

 

“Cas?” Ben asked.

 

“That’s me,” Castiel said, raising his hand.

 

“Oh. Cool!” Ben said. He took off in the direction of the living room and Lisa kept her eyes trained on Castiel as he walked past her.

 

“Kitchen,” Dean repeated.

 

Lisa didn’t even wait to get seated before asking, “Who is that?”

 

“An old friend,” Dean answered.

 

Lisa shook her head in disbelief. “One that I didn’t know about? Please, Dean, I’m not stupid.”

 

“Well you’re not exactly smart.” Dean responded before he could stop himself.

 

“Fuck you,” Lisa spat.

 

“What’d you come here for, Lisa?” Dean asked.

 

“I thought I’d give you another chance.”

 

“Another chance for what?” Dean hissed. He leaned against the counter and folded his arms. “I don’t want anything to do with you.”

 

“So? You want everything to do with my son, so you’re gonna have to deal with me. If I wanna know who that is, you’re going to answer me or you’re gonna suffer the consequences.”

 

Dean rubbed his temples and bit his lip again to keep from spitting back something offensive. It took a minute to gather himself.

 

“Lisa, I actually just want you to get out of my apartment. I told you-”

 

“No! You didn’t tell me anythi-”

 

“Yes I did! I did tell you! If you’re gonna attach little… expectations to these things, don’t bring him over. Don’t dangle him in front of me like I’m some kind of dog.”

 

Lisa leaned back in her chair and shook her head. “Dean, I think you’re crazy.”

 

Dean scoffed indignantly and pointed towards the door. “When _you_ start sayin' that, I know I'm in over my head. Get out.”

 

“Get out?”

 

“Yeah. Get out. You came here to piss me off.”

 

Lisa nodded her head. “Of course you’d think that,” she said. “Everyone’s against poor Dean Winchester.”

 

“No,” He responded hotly. “Just you. You contacted Sam for what? To get information on me so you could use that against me too, right? Get out of my house.”

 

Dean knew there was some kind of disconnect in Lisa that couldn’t be fixed with medicine or a rich husband. She needed more than any one man could have provided in a million years. And while he wanted to do everything for Ben, he couldn’t think of any way to get around his psycho of a mother.

 

“Fine,” She said calmly. “I just hope you know what you’re giving up, Dean.”

 

“I know what I’m not giving up,” Dean said. "and that's enough for me."

 

Lisa nodded her head and licked her lips before standing up and going to the living room. Dean followed her at a distance and watched from the doorway as she went to collect Ben. Poor kid hadn’t even set up a movie yet.

 

“We’re leaving?” Ben asked. He looked to Dean for confirmation.

 

“We’re leaving.” Lisa said. She looked at Castiel, then at the television, then at the corner of the room. Her head stopped and her jaw fell open. “What the hell is that?”

 

Dean followed her eyes. The charging dock. Dean sighed and wiped his hands down his face.

 

“What is it, mom?” Ben asked.

 

Castiel looked shocked but didn't make a move to defend himself from whatever Lisa was about to do.

 

“None of your damn business. Are you leaving?” Dean asked.

 

“This is a robot.” Lisa said, stunned. “Dean, you fucking pig.”

 

“Get the fuck out of my house,” Dean warned her.

 

“You nasty, _nasty_ son of a bitch,” she laughed. “This? This is your replacement for a real family? Oh, no, no, no...”

 

Ben looked between his mother and the box, confused.

 

“I apologize -” Castiel began.

 

“Cas, shut your damn mouth,” Dean hissed. “Lisa, get out.”

 

“Boofuckinghoo, Dean, look who’s lonely enough to buy a damn robot to warm his bed. I will leave. Don’t fucking call me. Ever. If I so much as see your number on my phone, I’ll send every god damn man I know to come and knock your teeth out. Disgusting.” She bent down and grabbed Ben by the arm, dragging him up off of the floor. “I can’t believe this.” She turned to Castiel and spat in his face, “you piece of shit,”

 

“You bitch,” Dean mumbled as he stepped fully into the living room. He made it steps in before Lisa put up her hand.

 

“Don’t bother,” she scoffed and glared at Dean before tugging Ben out of the living room. Dean followed closely, this time allowing Lisa to open the door and leave before he slammed it shut behind her.

 

Then he turned and put his fist through the wall.

 

Dean stood in the hallway, hand bleeding from the impact. Everything about that girl was fucked up, but she couldn’t have just left and allowed Dean the peace of finally coming to terms with his recent epiphanies. She had to rub it in, had to make him feel like he made a horrible decision about relationships... again.

 

Fuck her.

 

Dean walked to his bedroom and dropped to the bed, burying his face in his pillow and screaming as loud as he could. He didn’t think much when he felt the pressure of a hand against the small of his back, and he certainly wasn’t going to lift his face to confirm that it was Castiel trying to comfort him.

 

Ten minutes, then twenty minutes, and then thirty minutes passed.

 

“I wanna tell Ben I’m sorry,” Dean said eventually, turning his face to breath. In exhaling, he began to cry and quickly went back to trying to suffocate himself. “Fuck her. She’s a shit mother, she’s so stupid.” Dean said into the pillow. Castiel probably couldn’t even hear him.

 

Except, Castiel’s hand remained and eventually he said, “I’m sorry, Dean.”

 

“Stop saying that,” Dean said, removing his face from the pillow again to get a good look at Castiel.

 

Castiel looked shy but persistent when he responded, “But I want to say it.”

 

Dean moaned sadly before he could stop himself. “Jesus Christ.”

 

“Dean,” Castiel said. “I’m -”

 

“Don’t. Whatever you’re about to say, I’ve had enough bullshit for today,” Dean said. He sat up and Castiel’s hand slipped from his back as Dean turned himself around. As soon as he was upright, he leaned forward and quickly pulled Castiel against him, kissing him.

 

Castiel responded as Dean thought he would: he didn’t. He almost seemed to shut down.

 

Dean pulled back and looked alarmed enough that Castiel said, “I’m sorry.”

 

“If you say that one more time I’m gonna freak out,” Dean said angrily. “Get out.”

 

Wait, no. That was a douche thing to say. Castiel nodded his head and Dean didn’t stop him when he stood up to go downstairs with Finn. He wanted so badly to, especially when he stopped to consider that Castiel hadn’t done anything wrong.

 

“Wait, no. Don’t go!” Dean yelled. He climbed off of the mattress, but Castiel had already left.

 

Dean ran downstairs to the living room, brain conjuring up the story of the woman whose CIMSSA actually left the house. His panic abated when he saw the charging dock, Castiel poised neatly inside, charging.

 

Finn was sitting by the box, half between barking and whining. Dean huffed and sat down right in front of it and the dog climbed into his lap. Together, they waited for Castiel to charge.

 

\- - -

 

Dean fell asleep before he could stop himself and woke up to the sound of his phone ringing loudly from the hallway, rather than Castiel stroking his face or poking his neck. Castiel was still in the box, eyes half closed and meter still rising. Dean stood up and moved in closer to the box, reaching out and tapping the meter that was reading 68%.

 

His phone stopped ringing and he almost sat back down, but halfway to the ground it started back up again and he went to retrieve it, resigned.

 

He answered as he made his way back to the living room. “What?”

 

_“What? My, you’re getting awful comfortable.”_

 

Shit. Crowley. Dean pulled the phone away from his ear to look at the time. He was missing work by a few hours and this was the second time he’d done this. At any regular job, that wouldn’t have been a problem. Unfortunately, Crowley was a dick and Dean was already on uneven ground with him. Best to jump the gun then give Crowley the smug satisfaction of letting him go.

 

“Yeah. Uh… I quit.”

 

_“...”_

 

“So… bye.”

 

Dean hung up before Crowley could gather his bearings and immediately dialed Sam’s familiar number before he could stop himself.

 

 _“Dean?”_ Sam groused. _“It’s really late. What’s going on?”_

 

“I'm losing my mind, Sammy. And I just quit my job,” Dean said.

 

There was shuffling and tense silence on the other line while Sam tried to sort out his response. Eventually, he said, _“Alright, usually I’d say that’s great. But I gotta ask, Dean… is this… does this have anything to do with Castiel?”_

 

Dean’s instinct was to lie, but he’d been through the ringer for a few days and he couldn’t think of a more believable excuse to replace the truth with. The thing was, Dean couldn’t stand to hear from his brother what he’d heard from his crazy ex-girlfriend. He shook his head and pulled the phone from his ear, hanging up and turning off the phone.

 

Dean went back to watching Castiel with the dog running circles through the apartment. He forgot about time or responsibility, just watched as Castiel stood motionless on his charging dock. He almost fell back asleep again.

 

“Dean,” Castiel said as he opened his eyes all the way. His meter read 79% and Dean gave it a long, hard look before turning to look at Castiel. “Did you sleep?”

 

“Yeah,” Dean lied easily.

 

“I’m sorry I had to charge so suddenly. I don’t think my battery life was created with this emotional load in mind.”

 

“Emotional load,” Dean echoed. He stood up slowly. “You have an emotional load?”

 

Castiel stuttered over his words and quickly covered his mouth with his hand when he couldn't produce an intelligible sentence.

 

“No, no, no, no,” Dean moaned. “You don’t stutter, Cas. How are you stuttering?”

 

“I - I don’t know. I mean, I do know that there’s something happening to me. I’m learning too much, maybe. I’m not sure…” Castiel looked so nervous that Dean reached out to hold his face as he gathered his ideas. “I used to just watch people. I watched movies, and- and I read books and I wanted to be like people, but I shouldn’t have wanted at all and so I tried to stick to the rule book in my head. The book that I was supposed to be following. It wasn't - it wasn't working, so I deleted the book and I just kept on trying to fit in and now I think I've done it for much longer then I'm created to do it for because I can't...”

 

“You can’t… you can’t tell me this. What am I gonna do, Cas? You’re not real!”

 

“I’m not real,” Castiel copied.

 

“No, but you’re _so real_ to me and I have to live with that. I have to think everyday that you’ve got a mind of your own, that you’re starting to do your own thing. You don’t have feelings, you don’t have distractions or - or worries. I have to grow old with this idea that the perfect person for me isn’t even a god damn person…” Dean trailed off. His hands had moved from Castiel’s face to his shoulders and Dean quickly let him go. “You’re not like me. You can’t have kids that won’t grow older then you. You can’t live with anyone who won’t die before your parts wear out. You don’t starve, you don’t get sick-”

 

“Please, stop,” Castiel begged. “I’m sorry.”

 

“No! You’re not sorry because you’re not made with that kind of compassion!” Dean yelled.

 

“I didn’t make me!” Castiel yelled back. “So I’m sorry even if I don’t know how to be!”

 

“Oh, god,” Dean said, hand on his hip as he tipped his head back. By the time he’d righted himself, Castiel has fixed him with a look so dismal that Dean had to apologize to make himself feel better about being an asshole. He was running on basically no sleep and he couldn’t help himself. “Cas, I’m sorry, too. For both of us.”

 

Castiel looked between Dean's eyes and his lips before stepping in and kissing him softly. Dean took on the role of unresponsive while Castiel stepped back, and then he gathered himself and moved at Castiel so fast, the two fell back into the charging dock. Finn yelped and ran around the room, around their legs as Castiel learned how to kiss and Dean wrapped the robot in his arms to teach him.

 

“There’s a package for this,” Castiel said between kisses. Dean, already out of breath, only nodded and moved in again. He kissed Castiel’s nose and chin before moving back up to his lips.

 

“You think it’s worth buying?” Dean asked.

 

“We’ll have to if you ever want me to do more than this.” Castiel suggested.

 

Dean pressed Castiel into the walls of his charging station and Castiel reached up to steady himself against the walls while Dean sucked on his lips and lifted his feet from the ground. Castiel wrapped his legs around Dean’s waist, but made sure to hold steadily onto the edges of the box to hold most of his own weight.

 

“Can you sleep with me tonight?” Dean asked.

 

“Only if you mean that in the most literal sense,” Castiel answered. 

 

“That’s what I mean,” Dean said. “Will you need to charge again?”

 

“Not tonight,” Castiel responded quietly.

 

Dean nodded and let Castiel down, but not before kissing him again.

 

When Dean walked to his bedroom, Castiel and Finn followed happily.

 

“Who invited the dog?” Dean laughed as he climbed up on his mattress.

  
“The dog invited himself,” Castiel answered. He copied Dean and slipped under the covers and Dean, completely bypassing his own worries and doubts about slowly falling in love with a robot, slowly went into Castiel's open arms and fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! Even if you hear it a million times, I hope you get lots of hugs, kisses and well wishes.

**Author's Note:**

> Any and all feedback is appreciated!


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